And Then There Were None
by Sandylee007
Summary: When Reid meets the eyes of a bystander at the end of a case he doesn't think much of it. But then 'gifts' start to appear, and it looks like someone's following his every move. What does the stalker want, and what are they willing to do to get it?
1. Prologue – The Eyes Have It

A/N: Now that my former project is nearing its end, I think it's time to launch something new.

**This story is the** (quite narrow, but still) **winner of my 'My next CM story' -poll.** Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to those who have voted thus far! And the poll is still open and in my profile, so if you want to take a look at what kind of stories are luring in the back of my head and perhaps even cast a vote go on ahead!

WARNING: gore, blood, swearing, torture, VERY adult themes… As the title suggests this will be a very dark fic, so… (grins sheepishly) Hey, where did you all go?

DISCLAIMER: Me, own? Yeah, right… If I DID own anything of 'CM', Reid's secret would've been revealed fifteen episodes ago. (growls)

Awkay, because I may change my mind about posting this… (takes a deep breath) I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the start-out!

(**To those wondering… **Yeah, the story's title hints towards the book.)

* * *

**_And Then There Were None_**

**_

* * *

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Prologue – The Eyes Have It

* * *

/ _At first there was only headache when consciousness reached a five-year-old Cody Jones, slowly yet surely. He emitted a tiny, frail whimper and brought both of his hands to his face, desperately attempting to block out the pain. A tear or two rolled down his cheeks._

_What was going on? Where was he? The last thing he remembered was hearing steps behind him while he'd been sitting on a playground's swing…_

_"You shouldn't whimper. And don't cry – don't ever cry." Although it belonged to a little boy the voice startled him so badly that he shuddered. "Uncle John doesn't like it when we cry."_

_Cody swallowed, entirely new fear making him forget about the headache for a moment. Slowly, disobeying the pleads of his body, he moved his hands and opened his eyes. What he found made the little warmth there'd been in his tiny body fade away._

_The room around him looked like a basement of some sort. There was no furniture apart from eight mattresses, one of which he occupied, and a tiny oil lamp that'd been placed in the middle of the room. With the lack of light it was almost impossible to see properly, and the darkness seemed to sneak all the way under Cody's skin. It wasn't what got to him the most, though. Because it was around then he began to realize that he wasn't alone. Five more of the mattresses were occupied by boys who looked about his age. They were all bald and had similar gray shirts and pants on. And every single one of them had the same look in their eyes that chilled Cody._

_Cody wrapped his arms tightly around himself, desperately attempting to make sense to things. "What… What is this place?" he managed._

_The boy on the mattress next to his was quiet for a moment, his brown eyes darkening still. The child turned out to be the same who first spoke to him. "This is Uncle John's house. He took us here because he wants to play with us."_

_Cody frowned, desperately fighting against the tears of fear that wanted to fill his eyes. "Play… with us?" he repeated._

_The other boy nodded. "Don't cry – Uncle John hates it. Owen cried yesterday and he was taken upstairs." The child glanced towards the hopelessly long, ominously dark stairs that seemed to lead towards some sort of a hatch. "No one comes back when they're taken upstairs. I've been here the longest, for two months – I know." The boy then looked towards him, appearing curious. "I'm Liam. Who are you?"_

_It took a very long moment before Cody managed to speak. Even as he did his frail, tear-filled voice shook. "My… My name is Cody."_

_Liam nodded and smiled, just a little bit. "Welcome to Uncle John's house, Cody. And don't look so sad. It gets easier when you've been here for a while."_

_Cody wished from the bottom of his child's heart that he'd been able to believe Liam. Because just then the hatch opened._ /

* * *

Spencer Reid had been in the position he found himself in that morning several times before – too many times. His heart thumped painfully as he tried to look away from the gun pointed his way, instead focusing on the UnSub's eyes. Despite how dilated the man's pupils were it was easy to see the shade of icy blue that reminded him of a wounded wild beast. The cold sweat shimmering all over the man's face had glued his shortcut black hair to his forehead and neck.

The UnSub was Joshua Martel, age thirty. He was a psychiatric patient who'd been diagnosed with schizophrenia when he was eighteen. He'd been discharged from a mental institution a year and a half ago. Since then four little boys at the age of five had disappeared. A jogger's dog had found them from a hideout that'd been built under the ground in the middle of a forest. They'd all been killed with single, heavy and swift blow to the death – they'd died instantly. The boys had been covered with thick blankets, and a small lamp had been left to provide them some light.

In such a small town it'd been a challenge for the team to convince people into opening up to them. It'd taken the team almost two full weeks before the leads had finally pointed towards Joshua. It took another two days before they found him.

And they were almost too late. Because as it turned out they weren't the only ones who'd managed to track down the killer. Psychiatrist Karen Donovan, a doctor of Joshua's age who treated him when he was in a hospital, heard the news of the killings and caught on in an instant. Ignoring her own safety she sought him out from the small, barely still standing house that was his childhood home and went to talk to him all alone. Now she was huddled on the floor between Joshua and the wall, her green eyes full of fear and signs of several punches on her face. There was a hint of blood on her long, blond hair.

It looked almost like Joshua had forgotten about Karen, though. Because all the man's attention was directed towards Spencer. "You have to leave, now", the UnSub hissed. "I don't want to have anything to do with you."

Spencer revealed his sweating, empty hands for the man to see. "I'm not going to harm you, Joshua. But I can't leave, either. You've killed five children, five little boys."

Those words finally triggered something. Joshua's eyes flashed with something primal and for a moment Spencer was sure the man would shoot him. "I… I was protecting them! They're safe now!"

Spencer swallowed thickly, all the adrenaline in his body making his head spin. "Joshua, I know you're scared and angry. You did it all for those boys. I understand." He glanced quickly towards the utterly horrified woman who was shaking violently. "But Dr. Donovan doesn't have anything to do with it. She tried to help you, Joshua. She tried to understand, too."

Joshua shook his head violently. Tears rolled down the man's cheeks while he began to tremble uncontrollably. "She doesn't understand a fucking thing!" the armed man screamed, his voice filled with despair. "And you sure as hell don't understand, you don't! You don't have a fucking idea! Uncle John isn't whispering in your head – you don't have to listen to him every single moment, even when you're asleep! So don't you dare tell me you understand!"

And then, in less than a breath, a gunshot rang out.

Suddenly there was movement and shouting everywhere, so much buzzing that it was impossible to keep track of it all. Blood stained the floor and the walls, and Karen screamed.

Spencer shuddered when feeling a hand on his shoulder. "Reid?" Derek Morgan's voice carried a heavy load of worry. "Reid, are you okay?"

He nodded slowly. Yes, Spencer was fairly sure he was at least somewhat okay. But he couldn't tear his gaze away from Joshua's body, which had slumped lifelessly to the floor. There was a self-inflicted gunshot wound on the man's head.

And suddenly Spencer felt almost ready to cry although the harsh voice of his reason tried to tell him that justice had been served.

He didn't snap back into present time until a couple of officers from the local police covered Joshua's body and Aaron Hotchner stood before him with a frown. "Are you alright?"

Spencer was pleased to discover that he was finally able to speak, although quite little. "Yeah", he breathed out, his gaze shifting towards Emily Prentiss and David Rossi as the two escorted hysterically shaking Karen away. "I'm fine."

Apparently coming to a conclusion that he'd seen enough of the room Derek squeezed his shoulder to get his attention. Finally looking up he found a look of sympathy from the man's eyes. "C'mon, kid. Let's get out of here."

Spencer nodded once more, more than eager to leave the nightmare behind. None of the three of them said a word as they walked out of the building.

The chief of the local police, Giles Manlow – a slightly overweight, rapidly balding man with tiny eyes – walked over to them with a frown on his sweaty face. "So that psycho took care of himself?"

Spencer felt a cold breeze he couldn't explain on his skin and opened his mouth, but Aaron was faster. "He killed himself before we could get to him."

Giles unleashed a clearly dissatisfied gunt, the frown on his face deepening. "Well fuck." The man then looked towards him. "So you decided to go and face him unarmed. How did you know he wouldn't blow your head off?"

Spencer opened his mouth, about to respond, until he felt someone watching him. He turned his gaze with a frown and felt chills go down his spine upon seeing someone standing in the shadows of a nearby block of flats. The observer's eyes were fixed directly upon him. And for a moment Spencer lost his breath entirely although he wasn't sure why.

"Reid?" Emily's voice called out to him. "What's wrong?"

Spencer closed his eyes, then opened them again. The observer was gone.

He swallowed thickly, then shook his head. Somehow the air around him felt a lot colder than before. "Nothing. I just… thought I saw someone."

The others appeared confused but none of them said a thing.

* * *

Hours later in the team's jet Spencer was the only member of the team who couldn't find sleep.

Or so he thought until Aaron sat beside him all of a sudden. "You seemed pretty out of it today", the man stated before he could say a word.

Spencer swallowed against the tightness of his throat he couldn't understand, looking out the jet's window to avoid meeting the other man's eyes. Flashes of the children's bodies mixed with the sight of Joshua shooting himself. And from somewhere behind all that a flash of the observer appeared, taunting him. His eyes narrowed as though he'd been getting a headache. "I just… I guess this case hit me, that's all."

Aaron nodded, seeming to relax slightly although the man most likely knew that he hadn't told the full truth. "Cases like this… They never get easier. But you did a good job, although I don't appreciate your decision of facing him unarmed. You did everything you could." With that the unit chief got up. "And if there's something on your mind you can always talk to me. I hope you know that." After receiving his nod the man went back to his own seat.

And suddenly Spencer found it easier to breathe than before.

Less than half an hour later he was asleep, blissfully unaware that his own personal nightmare had only just began…

* * *

TBC, or not?

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A/N: Ominous, much? (shudders a little bit)

So… Was that any good, at all – or should I just put this out of its misery and pretend this story never existed?

**PLEASE**, let me know! It'd mean the world to me, especially now that this story is only just beginning. (gives puppy's eyes)

Thank you so much for reading!

Until next time, folks – whichever story that may be with!

Take care, yeah?


	2. Hello

A/N: Heh, I know it's taken time but I had to bring another project closer to its finish before starting to give my heart to this one. (grins sheepishly)

BUT, first off… Thank you so, so much for those fantastic reviews! (HUUUGS) You've blown life into this story, ya know? So THANK YOU! (hugs once more)

And, of course, thank you so much for voting! To those curious, 'my next CM-story' –poll is still open… (Oh, I'm so not hinting anything!)

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting too long, let's go! (gulps nervously) I REALLY hope this one turns out worth the wait!

* * *

'_First the stalk - then the roots. First the need - then the means to satisfy that need. First the nucleus - then the elements needed for its growth._'

(Robert Collier)

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Hello

* * *

/ _Cody Jones had spent sixty four mornings in uncle John's chilling basement when he woke up to the sound of moaning. He frowned and rubbed his face with one hand, trying to wake up as fast as possible. Cold nestled into his stomach when he noticed that on a mattress quite close to him Luca – a five-year-old boy who arrived two nights earlier with nearly black, shortcut hair and equally dark eyes – was tossing and turning, tears running down his cheeks. Luca was clutching the right side of his stomach desperately, obviously in a lot of pain. The other five children of the basement had gathered around the pained boy, all with worried looks on their faces._

_Cody swallowed with severe difficulty, wrapping his arms around himself. "Is he okay?"_

_Liam, their self-proclaimed leader, shook his head. The boy's brown eyes were a lot darker than usual. "He's ill."_

_Danny, a boy with wild red hair and green eyes that might've held mischief elsewhere, clearly fought against tears. The child seemed to be shaking. "Mommy… Mommy took me to a doctor, when I wa' that 'ick. My tummy hurt a lot, and the doctor cut 'omething out. Mommy cried, and I wa' 'cared."_

_Terror flashed through Cody. "How do we help him?"_

_There was no response. They were all only five years old. How were they supposed to know how to take care of someone so sick?_

_Then, all of a sudden, Luca let out a sharp cry and turned to his side, curling up to a small ball. When the dark-haired boy threw up loudly Danny yelped, then clasped a hand to his mouth and started to cry. Cody would've wanted to do the same but he was too much in a shock to produce a single tear. All he could do was stare with wide, terrified eyes as Luca threw up again, emitting a agonized whimper._

_Like things hadn't been bad enough already it looked like uncle John heard the hassle. The hatch that separated them from the terrors awaiting upstairs opened, revealing the large man's silhouette. "What the hell is this ruckus all about?" a sharp voice growled. It was then the man spotted Luca and the vomit around the child. "Fuck…"_

_The rest of the children didn't dare to move an inch or emit a sound while the man marched down the stairs, then hauled Luca to his shoulder as if the child had been a mere ragdoll. Luca cried out and held a hand against his stomach as tightly as humanly possible. Uncle John growled and gave the suffering child a hard punch, after which there wasn't a sound. And Cody couldn't do anything but stare._

_That was until uncle John sensed him looking. The man's sharp, almost colorless eyes were filled with something the made the child tremble when they bore into his. "What the hell are you gawking at, boy?"_

_Cody swallowed thickly, struggling to form words. "N-Nothing, sir."_

_"That's what I thought." If he'd been standing he would've jumped when a large, stinking washcloth was thrown at him. "Do something useful and clean up the mess this brat made." So saying the man was gone. The hatch boomed closed after him._

_And then there were only six of them._

_They never saw Luca again._ /

* * *

Derek Morgan rarely had nightmares after cases anymore. It didn't mean that he was growing emotionless. It merely meant that his mind needed to forget so he could cope with what he'd seen and move on.

Because honestly… If he'd seen every single one of the monsters and their victims he'd met in his nightmares, he would've gone insane.

But the case with Joshua Martel as their UnSub was different – it was always different when the victims were innocent children. With his mind's eye Derek could still see the bodies of the five-year-olds, and in his dreams he heard them screaming and crying after help that never came. And then he saw Joshua holding a gun at Spencer before taking his own life.

Needless to say, the sleepless nights those dreams brought along were bound to take their toll on him. But it looked like he wasn't the only one with that problem.

He arched an eyebrow when spotting Spencer slumping to his own chair with the day's tenth mug of coffee. "Long night, kid?"

Spencer blinked twice, appearing somewhat startled, then shrugged. "Sort of."

Far from pleased by the elusive answer Derek let his eyes wander towards the mug. His eyebrows furrowed. "That much coffee can't be good for you."

Spencer gave him a somewhat irritated look. "I know, I know. Too much caffeine can cause difficulty in sleeping, irregular heartbeats, nausea, muscle tension, ulcers, heartburn and headaches." Noticing his snappy tone the brunet gave him a apologetic look. "Sorry."

Derek shrugged and made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "It takes a lot more than that to damage my ego, you know?" He then grew slightly more sombre, examining his friend's exhausted face with worried eyes. "But seriously, you've been like a zombie all day – for the past couple of days, actually. What's wrong?"

Spencer stiffened, and Derek could practically see the younger man's barriers rise up. The brunet wouldn't meet his eyes properly. "I just… haven't slept that well lately." Clearly sensing the alarm rising inside his older teammate the genius finally looked at him. "It's nothing you or the rest of the team should worry about, honestly."

Derek opened his mouth but was cut off when the building's security guard – a man of his age and size with black hair and the sharpest blue eyes he'd ever seen – appeared. There was a bunch of twelve red roses in the man's hands. "A delivery guy left these for Dr. Spencer Reid. He couldn't tell pretty much anything about the sender and there's no card, but the package has been investigated and proclaimed safe."

The very little color there'd been on Spencer's face disappeared and the brunet's fingers shook as he accepted the offering. "Thank you."

As the guard left Derek looked at the flowers, one of his eyebrows rising. "You really manage to surprise sometimes, kid." When Spencer didn't respond in any way he looked at the younger man with another frown. The genius looked like he'd just seen a ghost while staring at the flowers with slightly widened eyes.

Derek opened his mouth to speak before David walked in, immediately arching an eyebrow at the flowers. "Now what are those? Do you have a secret admirer?"

With a red hue of embarrassment and a slight frown on his face Spencer put the flowers away. "Something like that", the young brunet mumbled. He then got to his legs with visible effort and began to hurry away. "I…" Spencer cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "There's something I've gotta take care of. If Hotch asks I'm with Garcia."

There was a thoughtful look on David's face as the older man watched Spencer walk away. "What do you think is up with him?"

Derek shook his head, because in all honesty he had no answers. His eyes strayed towards the roses Spencer had abandoned.

Suddenly their color looked all too much like blood to his liking.

* * *

Spencer didn't know what Penelope Garcia had been doing before he entered her lair, but she was so worked up by it that she jumped when hearing his steps.

He paused, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Beginning to calm down Penelope gave him a slight smile and shook her head. "No harm done, sweetie. Just… Next time, knock or something. Because you're getting almost as good at sneaking up on people as Hotch."

That actually managed to pull a small smile from Spencer.

Penelope grinned widely. "Ah, there it is! I've missed Dr. Reid's special smile."

Spencer felt slightly lighter for a couple of seconds until he remembered why he'd come to her office in the first place. He swallowed against the blockage that was steadily forming in his throat. "Were you able to trace the number I gave you?"

Penelope winced. "I'm afraid you're not going to like this. But… The number belonged to a man named Douglas Rogers – he died a week ago in a hit and run accident. It's like you'd been called by a ghost. This is kind of creepy." Seeing the expression that flashed on his face she hurried to add "Sorry".

Spencer barely heard. His thoughts were spinning a million miles per hour. "I… Someone tried to call me five times last night. I just… I was wondering what they wanted." Then quickly retreating back into his shell he gave her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thanks, Garcia. I owe you a favor."

He was about to leave before Penelope found her voice once more. "Hey, Reid?" She met his questioning look with a frown. "You're… not in any sort of a trouble, are you? Is something wrong?"

Spencer shook his head, doing his best to appear convincing. "Everything's okay. I'll see you later." With that he escaped before she could ask another thing.

Penelope stared at the closed door and swallowed thickly, feeling chills on her skin.

She could still recall all too clearly how she'd been forced to watch when Tobias Hankel tortured Spencer. And that heartbreaking recording they'd made for Spencer's mother once upon a time was still on her computer, haunting her.

She didn't think her heart would be able to take it if he'd end up into such a situation again.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Spencer. He did paperwork, drank a lot more coffee, hoped he grinned in all the right placed when Derek and Emily bickered, and worked his hardest to dodge the worried looks sent his way.

He didn't want any of them to worry, not yet at least. Not before he was sure that he wasn't going insane.

How was he supposed to explain to them, anyway, that he'd been feeling that someone was watching and following him since the Martel-case? Far too often there was this dark-shaded car parked right outside the block of flats where he lived, positioned so that the driver could see straigth to his windows. Whenever the driver realized that they'd been spotted the car vanished.

Spencer didn't know if it was a stalker or just a series of weird consequences. Maybe he was just being paranoid. But with the phone calls he got the night before, made by a dead guy…

He stopped in the middle of that thought after taking two steps from his car. The hair in the back of his neck rose as he could've sworn he felt someone's eyes on him. Turning his gaze to the side he froze completely when seeing someone stood by a nearby corner. He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them again. The figure was gone.

A small, tense laughter erupted from Spencer.

_Your mind is making tricks on you_, he told himself.

Nonetheless his steps were a bit more hurried than usual when he walked through the building's door and climbed up the stairs to his own floor. As soon as he saw the door of his apartment he froze once more, his heart stilling for a second or two.

As it turned out there was a gift waiting for him. Right before his door was a small, black box that had a clown's head sticking out of it. There was a manic grin on the clown's face, and the all too lively eyes looking back at him made his skin crawl.

As though he'd been enchanted he took one step towards the gift, then another. Slowly, knowing all too well that it was a stupid idea to approach the object, Spencer outstretched a hand and touched the clown's chilling face. He withdrew his hand and almost jumped backwards when the head bounced upwards and the clown emitted laughter that made blood freeze in his veins.

It took a couple of moments before he overcame his shock enough to notice the note that'd been attached to the clown's now at least five centimeters long wire neck. There was only one word written to it in a handwriting he couldn't recognize.

'_Hello._'

Spencer swallowed and licked his lips, feeling colder than he had in the wind outside.

Ironically, for the first time in his life Spencer wished he'd been paranoid.

* * *

TBC, or not?

* * *

A/N: Hmm… You could call that a bit creepy, right? (shudders)

Soooo…. (swallows nervously) Was that any good, at all – or should I feed this to my extremely hungry cat? **PLEASE**, let me hear your thoughts! Awww, c'mon – make the poor, old author happy! (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE (if you want such, that is): How much longer will Reid be able to keep his situation a secret when more gifts appear – this time a bit more threatening ones? What does the stalker want with him?

Until next time folks – be it with this story or some other project!

Take care!

* * *

**kitty**: Weeell, in that case continue I shall. (grins) I really hope you'll keep enjoying the ride!

Massive thank yous for the review!


	3. It's the Fear

A/N: Meh, I know, not exactly a timely update but at least not as late as the last one. (groans) To my defence, I've had a pretty crappy week and my spark for writing has been down until today. (winces)

BUT, first… Thank you so much for those lovely reviews! (hugs) They're what gives this story fuel, especially when my inspiration is running low. You do know that, right? So thank you!

Awkay, because I've already kept you waiting… (takes a deep breath) I REALLY hope you'll enjoy this leg of the race!

* * *

It's the Fear

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/ _When Cody Jones had been locked into Uncle John's basement for three and a half months winter came, and it appeared their captor wasn't too interested in keeping the children warm. The small, stone made space became so cold that most nights the children spent the night on a shared mattress to prodive each other at least some warmth. Under those circumstances it wasn't a surprise that soon enough the children began to fall ill. Cody was the third one to become struck by flue._

_That very morning his head hurt so badly that the child was sure something was broken inside his skull. Everything hurt, and he felt so cold that he couldn't stop shivering. He swam somewhere between feverish hue and awareness, only finding comfort from the snapshots his mind fed him with._

_Flashes of his parents, of his home. Of happiness. Such memories didn't seem to belong into the basement._

_Cody didn't know what time it was, and he couldn't be sure if everything around him was real, when Uncle John's sharp voice drifted to his ears. Was… someone slapped? "I don't want to hear another objection from you, boy", Uncle John snarled. The tone sent chills down Cody's spine._

_Even in his current condition he knew that someone was in a lot of trouble._

_A couple of sobs could be heard. Turning his gaze weakly Cody saw through some blur how Wylie – who was five but a lot smaller than he – tried to stand firm against their captor. Wylie's wide, deep blue eyes were filled with tears and terror. Sweat had glued the boy's black hair to his pale forehead. __"I… __I don't want to go upstairs anymore", Wylie whispered in a shaking tone, a couple of tears rolling freely. "P- Please, don't make me – not today. It hurts – it hurts everywhere, and I'm tired. Please, sir, not today." And then happened the ultimate _bad thing_. Cody's eyes widened as he watched how a growing wet spot appeared to the other boy's pants. Soon the smell of urine was clearly evident. "Please…", Wylie whispered once more, the tears falling faster._

_This time the punch that came was even harder. Cody shuddered when Wylie flew to the floor with a yelp of pain and a cracking sound was heard._

_There was a inferno in Uncle John's eyes when the man pulled Wylie up with a force that made the child scream from pain. "Let this be a lesson for you all. You do not disobey and disrespect me, is that understood? Or else you'll face the same fate this brat does." So saying the man dragged Wylie out of the room. The sound of the other boy's sobs was left resonating into Cody's ears._

_The basement was utterly quiet as they watched how the wooden board that'd covered the room's only, tiny and extremely filthy window was removed. Uncle John made sure they were all watching before forcing Wylie against a metallic pole that stood only a couple of steps away from the window. Someone – it could've even been Cody – unleashed a whimper as they observed how Uncle John tied a metallic chain around the shivering and crying little boy, effectively trapping the child. And then the man left the boy all alone into the winter._

_Cody was tired, feverish and barely coherent, but he could nonetheless see that it was freezing outside. Wind blew so hard that it howled in the basement's corners, bringing along even more snow to the world outside although it already almost reached Wylie's knees. Wylie… He wouldn't last long out there._

_Cody gulped although it felt like he'd been swallowing needles. "We… We need to do something", he whimpered in a raspy tone._

_Eveyone's eyes were immediately on Liam. The child's mouth formed a thin, tight line as the boy stared at Wylie. "We can't. He'll hurt us if we're not good – he said so. Uncle John doesn't lie." With that the child lay down, turning his back on the boy outside. And nothing more was said._

_They all tried to stay awake with Wylie. But in the end the children began to fall asleep._

_Outside Wylie stopped crying eventually, and the little color there'd been on the child's face disappeared. At around the same time the boy's lips turned blue a glazed over look appeared to his eyes. And in the end Wylie even stopped shivering._

_Cody tried to stay awake, he really did – he didn't want Wylie to suffer all alone. But the fever and intense exhaustion took their toll on him, and in the end his consciousness fled._

_When he opened his eyes again he frowned, for a couple of moments unable to understand why he felt like crying. And then the pieces of memories collided, making his eyes widen. Instinctively his gaze turned towards the filthy window._

_Wylie wasn't out there anymore._

_They never saw him again. The basement's population had diminished to five._ /

* * *

Two weeks passed by from the clown and the roses, and Spencer did his best to lull himself into some sort of normalcy.

During a case that led the team to Kentucky – where a UnSub was hunting down housewives, already having killed four – it was easy to focus on other matters. His brain finally had the chance to wrap around other things, to put together a yet another puzzle. Despite the horrors they had to see it was good to finally know what he was supposed to do.

(Spencer wondered, though, how worrying it was that cases had become his new normalcy.)

But as soon as he returned to Quantico the nightmare continued. That same car was parked right outside his apartment once more, and wherever he went it felt like someone's eyes were following him, monitoring his every move. The nightmares that'd left him for a moment came back.

And that morning he received a yet another chilling surprise.

When he emerged from shower he heard a strange, small sound he might've left unnoticed altogether in some other state of mind. He hesitated, but eventually approached the noise to discover that someone had slipped in a paper through his mail slot. He picked up the paper, and almost choked on his very breath.

On the paper was a pencil drawing that'd been made with great detail. It represented him taking off his shirt before going to shower.

He stared at the picture for a while before making sure that he'd closed every single window blind in his apartment. He gave himself a mental kick for not being more careful, for he discovered with great annoyance that he'd indeed forgotten one blind halfway open. Then he made himself coffee, deciding that this was one of those mornings when breakfast wasn't a good idea. He paid no attention to the fact that he could barely hold a cup.

It wasn't until Spencer sat into his car, planning on going to work, the shock finally swam in. It was the first time during his career he was late for work, albeit with only five minutes.

* * *

"You know, usually I'm the only one here at this hour."

Aaron's familiar voice spooked Spencer so badly that he took a much too large sip of the little coffee he had left and ended up coughing loudly.

The unit chief gave him a long look. "Are you alright?"

He did his best to give a somewhat convincing smile. "I'm just… finishing some paperwork. You know, from the Kentucky-case. It's already taken too long."

Aaron's eyebrows furrowed. "There's no reason that couldn't have waited until tomorrow."

He shrugged. "It's okay. I have no rush to go home, anyway."

Aaron seemed to restrain a sigh or a groan. "Look, Reid… I'd much rather get a report you haven't written half asleep, alright? It's been a long day and it's pushing nine PM. Go home and get some rest."

Spencer did his best to keep his expression from faltering.

There was a time, he supposed, when going home was something to look forward to…

He opened his mouth – and jumped slightly on his seat when someone walked in all of a sudden. He didn't manage to relax until about three seconds after discovering that the arrival was just Derek. There was a sour look on the dark-skinned man's face.

Aaron arched one eyebrow. "A not so perfect date?"

Derek unleashed a dark sound from the back of his throat. "She stood me up, and when I went home Clooney had thrown up all over my couch, alright? And to add the fun my cell phone's battery died and I forgot the charger here. So this has been a pretty shitty evening."

It was surprisingly easy to see how Aaron held back a smirk. "I see."

As a magician Spencer had learned to recognize a good diversion. Noticing that the attention was finally away from him he put on his jacket and grabbed his bag, then began to hurry towards the awaiting doors. "See you tomorrow, guys."

After receiving two gruff sounds he walked out, working his hardest to focus on breathing and walking steadily.

* * *

Hearing the sounds of Spencer leaving Aaron turned his gaze, only to notice that his youngest agent had already gone.

A frown appeared to his features as he kept looking at the closed door with thoughtful eyes.

Somehow the room felt colder than before.

* * *

As he walked out of the building Spencer had a feeling that something was wrong. That thought became confirmed the moment he saw his car.

There, attached securely to the windshield of his car, a small note was flapping in the cool autumn's breeze. Its white color looked ominously bright against the dark evening.

At first a frown appeared to his face, but as soon as his mind caught on his entire body filled with ice.

He looked around but couldn't see anything suspicious in the parking lot's darkness. Only shadows moved, creating ever changing patterns on the gloomy landscape. Spencer took a deep breath to make up for those few he'd forgotten to take, then began to approach although all his reason screamed against it. He tried to ignore the way his hands shook when he grabbed the piece of paper and read it.

'_Ten little Soldier boys went out to dine;  
One choked his little self and then there were nine._

_Nine little Soldier boys sat up very late;  
One overslept himself and then there were eight._

_Eight little Soldier boys traveling in Devon;  
One said he'd stay there and then there were seven._

_Seven little Soldier boys chopping up sticks;  
One chopped himself in halves and then there were six._

_Six little Soldier boys playing with a hive;  
A bumblebee stung one and then there were five._

_Five little Soldier boys going in for law;  
One got in Chancery and then there were four._

_Four little Soldier boys going out to sea;  
A red herring swallowed one and then there were three._

_Three little Soldier boys walking in the zoo;  
A big bear hugged one and then there were two._

_Two Little Soldier boys sitting in the sun;  
One got frizzled up and then there was one._

_One little Soldier boy left all alone;  
He went out and hanged himself and then there were none._' (1)

At first Spencer felt completely numb. Then, very slowly, such coldness he'd never experienced before came in, accompanied by a bout of nausea.

The first immediate shock was far from faded when there were steps behind him.

Spencer spun around, his lips opened for a yell that never came. He found Derek stood only a small distance away.

Derek's eyes widened slightly while the man lifted one hand in a calming gesture. "Geez, kid. It's just me."

It wasn't until then Spencer realized that one of his hands had flown to where his gun was. He withdrew the hand quickly and licked his lips, quite pointlessly trying to force down the storm of adrenaline. "'Sorry", he breathed out, his still shaking hand tightening around the chilling note. He opened his mouth several times before managing to produce speech. "I was… I'm just a bit jumpy today."

Derek arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, I can see that." And then, inevitably, the man's eyes moved towards the note. A questioning frown was aimed his way. "Reid, what the heck is going on?" The man went on without giving him much of a chance to speak out. "A while ago someone sent you those roses that got you upset. Back then you had the same look in your eyes you do now. So what the hell is going on?"

Spencer swallowed thickly, feeling like a trapped animal. And then he took another deep breath, letting his eyes harden. "Nothing's wrong." He hoped he sounded more convincing in Derek's ears than his own. "I just… I'm tired, and I've had too much caffeine. Don't worry about any of this." He wasn't going to pull the team into this. This was something he wanted to keep as far from his surrogate family as possible.

Derek nodded slowly. Mistrust and worry lingered in the man's eyes. "So you say. But whatever the case, I'm giving you a ride home." Seeing his expression of protest Derek rolled his eyes. "You're a genius – you of all people should know that you're in no condition to drive."

Spencer opened his mouth but closed it soon after. He knew Derek. The best and most harmless thing he could do now was to accept the ride and try to keep the conversation in safe topics.

* * *

Very often – far more times than he was able to count, actually – Derek whined about Spencer's habit of spouting out facts and statistics. That late evening he found himself missing them, because the quiet, zoned out Spencer Reid that sat in his car wasn't the person he'd learned to know. He didn't know what to do with this version of his best friend.

He frowned, casting a sideways glance towards the young genius. "Are you going to keep giving me silent treatment for the entire ride?" Unfortunately his tone wasn't quite as light as he would've hoped.

Spencer blinked as though only just waking up to the present and gave him a apologetic look. "Sorry. I was just… thinking."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You're _always_ thinking, kid", he pointed out. He then grit his teeth together before going on. "Look… Whatever is going on with you, you can tell me. Alright? That's what being a team is all about."

At that moment a trapped look he'd never seen before appeared to Spencer's eyes, and a second or two later the brunet's lips parted slightly. The younger man was clearly only inches away from opening up to him. And just then they reached the block of flats where Spencer lived.

Derek hadn't realized he knew the kind of a list of swear words that sped through his brain at that very moment.

Relief flashed in Spencer's eyes while the man grabbed his bag as tightly as possible and fled the car. "Thanks for the ride, Morgan. I'll see you tomorrow."

It wasn't until the car's door closed Derek realized his defeat. He emitted a low growl, his eyes narrowing while his fingers squeezed tightly around the steering wheel.

A couple of seconds later his mind was made up.

He grabbed his cell phone and dialed familiar numbers.

* * *

Spencer couldn't fully understand why he was shivering when he approached the door of his apartment building and took a hold of it. A light frown crossed his features when he realized that it was unlocked.

Odd. Usually Mrs. Dowalski – a kind but extremely nosy elderly woman who lived in the apartment above his – always made sure the door wasn't left open. But then again this wasn't exactly the first time the front door's lock refused to work as it was supposed to.

Spencer licked his lips, furiously attempting to calm himself. He'd get a heart attack or a bad case of ulcer if he'd keep going like this.

That thought calmed him enough to help him become functional once more. He flicked on the hallway's lights and made his way to his own floor with hurried steps. When he was finally allowed to close the door of his apartment behind him he felt like he'd reached a sanctuary.

That feeling, of course, didn't last long. For as soon as he attempted to switch on the light on the right side of his door Spencer was greeted by sheer darkness. Cold spread through him like a tidal wave.

Doing his hardest to ignore the immediate feeling of dread Spencer walked slowly to the kitchen, then to living room, attempting to bring some light into the rooms. He had no luck, instead the eager shadows kept dancing everywhere around him.

It was around then realization dawned on Spencer. The thought hit him with such a wave that he began to feel nauseous. His pupils dilated as adrenaline took over.

The stalker… had been in his apartment – someone had violated his most private area. It seemed the element of threat had just escalated several degrees. The stalker had grown bolder, impatient perhaps, and was reaching closer and closer towards him.

Slowly yet surely Spencer's eyes became adjusted to the lack of light. And that was when he got a proper look on what had been done to his apartment. His heart jumped all the way to his throat while he blinked rapidly.

There were red rose petals, scattered absolutely everywhere. In the dark they looked almost like droplets of dried blood. There was also a small gift covered by a dark blue wrapping, abandoned to the small table in his living room.

At least Spencer was coherent enough to hesitate. But then a force he couldn't name got a hold of him and he found himself moving slowly.

Considering its size the gift was surprisingly heavy. Spencer's fingers shook slightly while he wrapped the gift open one corner at a time – to find what was nothing more than a small wooden box. On the box's bottom was a small note that'd been written on cardboard.

'_Flip me over_', the note said. It wasn't until then he noticed a tiny arrow that pointed towards a small red string on the note's bottom left corner.

Spencer swallowed, then made his decision although his reason screamed against it. He pulled, managing to reveal the original note's other side. In a couple of moments he recognized the words and blinked slowly.

Spanish… It'd been such a long time…

Slowly but inevitably the words made sense to him, seeped in like acid. His hand twitched with shock and his eyes widened when the message finally cleared out.

Spencer didn't react fast enough.

* * *

TBC, or not?

* * *

1) This is a later slightly altered version of a poem from a 19th century book or magazine, possibly Collier's. (The actual author isn't named anywhere – but the point is, the poem isn't mine, I'm afraid.) Quite creepy, huh? (shudders)

* * *

A/N: Yeah, the cliffies are back… (rolls eyes at oneself)

BUT, now… Was the chapter decent, or should I whisk it directly into a trashcan? **PLEASE**, do leave a note before you go! It'd mean a lot to me to know you've stopped by, ya know? (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE (if you guys are willing to read it): In the aftermath of an attack nerves are strained to the extreme. A mystery is unravelled.

Awkay, because it's getting late and I probably slept less than five hours last night I'm tuning out before I pass out. (grins sheepishly)

'Hope I'll c ya later, folks – be it with this story or some other!

Take care!

* * *

**ari**: You can't even imagine how excited I am to hear that! (beams)

I REALLY hope you'll find the next chapter(s) as captivating.

HUGE thank yous for the review!


	4. Scar Tissue

A/N: Guess what, folks? I've returned, and I have a chapter with me. (grins) BUT, first…

You guys, GOSH! THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those unbelievable reviews! (glomps) You can't even imagine how loved you've made this story feel – and how much support you've been, since I've had a pretty crappy past two/three weeks. So thank you! (hugs again)

Awkay, because I left you on a pretty demonic cliffie… Let's rock. (gulps thickly) I really hope you'll enjoy the ride!

* * *

Scar Tissue

* * *

/ _When Cody Jones had spent almost six months in Uncle John's basement it was only days to his sixth birthday. He wondered, with quite a bit of sadness, if he'd be home in time to celebrate it with his parents._

_As he recalled there had never been that many presents on his birthday. But there'd always been a birthday cake, and a kiss from his mother. And his mother had always been sure to sing him a song. The day had always been special._

_Cody wondered if his parents would remember the day, even if he wasn't home – if his mother would still sing him a song._

_That thought was cut brutally by the sound of the basement's hatch opening. Tension and terror filled the small space when the children saw Uncle John's silhouette in the stairs. "You, boy." Without a doubt the man's finger pointed towards Cody. "You'll come upstairs with me, right now."_

_Cody felt like throwing up, and no matter how hard he fought against it tears filled his eyes._

_Going upstairs didn't mean disappearing completely anymore. But those who were taken there and came back… They had changed._

_Cody had been upstairs five times, now. He should know._

_Behind him the other kids gasped. "Cody…", one of them whispered in a sorrow filled tone._

_Cody… didn't feel anything, really, as his body began to move automatically towards the man. By the time the hatch closed, sealing him from the other children and the basement's questionable safety, the tears had dried. They were stood in a long, red-painted hallway that seemed to have shadows everywhere. It scared Cody even more than the basement._

_He didn't look towards Uncle John when the man's large hand caressed his hair. "If you're a good boy today you'll get a special reward. Just stay quiet and do as you're told."  
Cody nodded, knowing that there wasn't much more he could've done._

_Just then happened something Uncle John clearly hadn't anticipated. There was a sound of door opening, followed by approaching footsteps and a male-voice Cody hadn't heard before. "John? Chrissy called – she's worried about you, and wanted me to come and see you. Are you…?" And then the arrival – a tall, thin man with brown hair and gray eyes – was already in the hallway. At first the man frowned upon seeing them, clearly not understanding what was going on. Then the arrival's eyes widened. "Fuck, John…! What the hell have you done?"_

_Cody was sure he screamed, but he couldn't hear a sound. Uncle John pulled out a gun and pointed it towards the arrival. In a flash there was blood everywhere, and the arrival fell to the floor. Although Cody was young he knew the man would never get up again._

_And Cody ran. At some point he felt burning, hellish pain in his side that almost brought him to his knees but he kept moving, despite his age knowing that this was his only chance to get away. Dark, long and empty hallways followed each other until he suddenly saw a door. Cool spring air caressed him when he pushed the door open and stumbled outside – only to realize that he'd reached a dead end._

_The house… It was in the middle of nowhere. There were no neighbors or other people who could've helped him. The only thing he saw where the long, empty field surrounding the house ended was a thick, completely dark forest._

_There was no hope in sight._

_It was around then the pain pulsating in his side got the best of Cody. He managed to take one step forward before he stumbled to the ground with tears in his eyes. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was the beginning of a sunset._

_Cody wondered if he'd ever wake up again._ /

* * *

How many times had Spencer been in a hospital since he joined BAU?

Honestly, Aaron had lost track long since, mostly because he didn't care to remember just how much danger the job had brought on the young genius. But this time around… This time it was different.

It was different – perhaps even more chilling – to get a phone call just when he was going to bed, to have a doctor telling him over the phone that one of his subordinates was in a hospital. The doctor, according to her own words, had been banned by her patient from telling anything more than that Spencer would be fine – he'd just need someone to drive him home from the hospital in the morning, just in case.

Although Spencer's stubbornness irritated Aaron he was also relieved. At least the young genius was awake and well enough to argue.

After the phone call that left him with more questions than answers Aaron made his decision and called the same person who'd informed him hours earlier that something was deffinitely going on with Spencer.

If anyone could pull the truth out of Spencer it was Derek Morgan.

By the time Aaron made it to the hospital Derek was already there, pacing around like a caged wild animal. "What the hell is going on?" Derek demanded as soon as the man saw him, then frowned upon noticing something. "Where's the rest of the team?"

Aaron bit back a sigh, trying to ignore the nagging thought that he was getting too damn old for his chief's role. "Reid wouldn't have wanted anyone to know whatever happened tonight. I was only notified because I'm his unit chief and thus his next of kin. I figured seeing the others might've been too much for him." He grit his teeth, feeling a headache swimming in. "Now let's go in."

Derek nodded, his eyes much darker than usual with guilt and something else.

They frowned at the rather heated conversation that greeted them as they entered the room. "… should've called us sooner, damn it!" a male voice they'd never heard before snarled with a clear edge of worry. "He could've killed you!"

"I _did_ call – eight days ago." Spencer sounded tired and tense. "They said…"

That was when Spencer and his visitor realized they were no longer alone. Deciding that there was no point in hiding – and, fair enough, eavesdropping – Aaron and Derek revealed themselves. It was a huge relief for them to discover that although Spencer was unhealthily pale and lay in a bed, he was awake and coherent. What stole their attention, however, was the genius' visitor.

Standing beside Spencer's bed was a about fifty-eight years old man who looked amusingly lot like a older version of Aaron with his sharp brown eyes and neatly cut hair of the same color. The alikeness was finished with the suit the man was wearing. The man glared at them with hazardous eyes, as though trying to determine if they were a threat or not.

"It's alright", Spencer hurried to explain, his gaze straying nervously between the man and them. "They're… my colleagues."

The stranger nodded stiffly, measuring them up with his gaze. "I see."

Aaron met the look with a quite similar one, and soon enough the two were locked to what appeared to be a staring contest of some sort. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. And you are…?"

The glance the stranger darted Spencer's way – as well as the fervent shake of head and almost frantic look he got as a response – was swift and subtle, but a trained agent's eye caught it nonetheless. "We'll continue this conversation later. Now get some rest." Without giving the rest of them much of a glance the man emerged from the room, leaving the air thick with questions and confusion.

At first the two visitors stared at the closed door until their attention shifted to Spencer. "What the hell was that all about?" Derek was the one to bite the bullet.

Spencer swallowed thickly, squirming in his bed with discomfort. "It… has nothing to do with you, okay? He was just… a very old friend." His tone told quite clearly that there wouldn't be a clearer response.

Derek opened his mouth to argue but Aaron was faster. "What happened? The doctor told us barely a thing."

Spencer licked his lips and visibly fought not to look away. The silence stretched. "I'm fine, okay? I tried to talk them into letting me go home already but the doctor wanted me stay here until the morning, just in case."

Derek didn't appear impressed. "Well that proves the people around here know what they're doing." The man's eyes narrowed. "But don't play dumb with us. This didn't start tonight."

For a moment Spencer looked like a deer in headlights. They barely heard when he finally spoke. "I… Someone's been keeping an eye on me, since the Martel case. I guess you could call him a stalker."

Derek's eyes flashed and the man's lips opened, but Aaron interrupted him with a firm shake of head. Lectures and yelling would do no good at the moment. They couldn't let Spencer close up any further.

Spencer went on, looking like he didn't even see them. "When I came home today the stalker… moved to the next level. He'd… He must've broken into my apartment." The brunet's hand shook as he ran it through his hair. "I couldn't turn on the lights, and there was a gift waiting for me."

Aaron frowned once again with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "A gift?"

Spencer nodded, finally looking at them properly. It was a bit surprising that the look in the genius' eyes was closer to exhaustion than fear. Maybe he was tired of being afraid all the time. "There was a box in my living room." The brunet grit his teeth. "I… I know I shouldn't have, but… I opened it." The genius clearly didn't want to do what he had to, but in the end moved his head so that they could see the left side of his neck. There was a long, harshly stitched up wound that went almost all the way from his shoulder to chin. The wound was less than an inch away from the young man's windpipe. And they could immediately tell it wasn't the only wound.

Chills went through Aaron, forcing him to fold his arms to his chest. "He could've killed you." He wasn't sure what to think about the atypical edge in his voice.

Spencer shook his head, glancing at them once more. "If the stalker would've wanted to kill me, I'd be dead." It was said with such ease that almost startled the two of them. The young man looked away, licking his lips. "This… was a warning, a message."

Rage was visible in Derek's eyes. "You're a profiler, Reid. You…!"

"I know", Spencer cut in and bit his lip. The man's eyes strayed, as though looking for something. "The stalker… It's already escalated from observing to an attack. It's going to get worse."

Aaron tried furiously to focus on thinking. It was his duty to keep his team safe, even when he didn't fully understand what he was protecting them from. "You won't go home from the hospital." Seeing the younger man's frown he decided to cut the approaching objection short. "You'd be a easy target alone in a place the stalker knows."

"I'll take him in." It seemed to shock all three of them how fast Derek responded. The man shrugged at their looks. "Hotch, you've got a kid. Besides, I've been in the same hotel room with Reid during cases. I know what I'm getting myself into."

Spencer frowned, obviously not too enthusiastic about the idea. "I'm not going to bring you in the middle of this, Morgan. I can take care of this alone."

Derek cast a warning half-glare towards the brunet. "Don't make me smack you, kid."

Just then the room's door opened. Aaron's hand flew instinctively to where his gun was and didn't move away fully even when he registered the young female nurse with long black hair and equally dark eyes.

The nurse gave them a smile, oblivious to his weapon. "As glad as I am to see that Dr. Reid has visitors, I'm afraid visiting hours are over."

Derek snorted, folding his arms as though preparing for a debate. "Reid was already attacked once. I'm not letting him out of my sight now." The man gave his younger teammate a stern look. "Don't you dare argue me."

The nurse appeared amused. "Fine. But if you disturb him or the other patients I'll have you kicked out, is that understood?"

Derek gave her his most charming look. "I promise you won't even know I'm around."

Spencer rolled his eyes while the nurse blushed.

Taking this as his cue to leave Aaron started towards the door. "I should go." He gave Spencer a meaningful look. "I'm expecting to get a full report from you as soon as you feel up to it."

Spencer nodded, seeming several shades paler than usual.

As soon as the nurse and unit chief had left Spencer's attention became fixed on Derek. He swallowed thickly. "I'm sorry. I…"

Derek interrupted him with a firm shake of head. "You should've known better than to try and keep something like that to yourself. But just this once I'll leave lectures for later, when you're not in a hospital bed looking miserable. Besides, I think you'll be in enough of trouble with Hotch."

Spencer winced, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Don't remind me."

Derek's expression turned slightly more serious, warning Spencer of what was to come. "But seriously… You have to stop hiding things. This team's a family, and families stick together no matter what. Plus, I'm your best friend – you need to trust me. I know you're still hiding something. And I want you to tell me what it is as soon as you can, 'k?"

Spencer nodded, knowing that he owed the older man at least this much. "'K."

Appearing satisfied with his answer for the time being Derek switched on the TV and started flipping through channels. At least remotely comfortable silence filled the room.

* * *

In one of the hospital's long hallways Aaron was making his way out until a female voice cut through his deep thoughts. "Excuse me, sir!" Turning he found the young nurse he'd just seen in Spencer's room dashing towards him. There was a envelope in her hand.

He frowned. "What is it?"

She panted slightly before managing to speak. "There's… According to Anna, another nurse, someone left this letter for you. They said it was urgent."

Feeling a hint of dread Aaron accepted the offering. "Thank you." The nurse was gone before he could ask another question.

Wary and suspicious Aaron took a look at the envelope. '_Agent Hotchner_' was written on it with a handwriting he didn't recognize. Knowing that he might've been making a dangerous mistake he opened the envelope, letting curiosity get the best of him. Once more his eyebrows furrowed when all he found was a tiny note that left him with cold he couldn't explain.

'_Are you sure you really know him?_'

* * *

In the covers of the night a lone person entered Spencer's room without making a sound.

Sharp, hazardous eyes flashed in the barely existent light of the night while first examining the dark skinned man sleeping in a chair – Derek Morgan, he recalled easily – then shifted towards the sleeping form in the room's bed.

It seemed Spencer was alright. He was pleased – it would've been disappointing if the little game had ended this soon.

His steps didn't make a sound while he approached the bed. With a gentle hand he moved the brown hair covering Spencer's ear to reveal tender skin. He glanced towards the brunet's face when the man shifted slightly and emitted a light sound of discomfort, but apart from a frown found no signs of Spencer waking up. Refocusing on what he'd been doing he glanced towards the skin behind the other man's ear. Sure enough, there was a small scar.

A chilling smile appeared to the intruder's face. He'd been right, after all.

He caressed Spencer's hair once more, watching the man's sleeping face that seemed to hold a troubled look.

They would meet again very, very soon – when the time was precisely right. Right now it would've been too dangerous. He'd have to be patient for a little while longer.

That thought calmed him down so that he didn't have to look over his shoulder when leaving the room.

When he made it to the hallway he almost ran into a guard. She was a slightly overweight, middle-aged woman with clearly dyed almost pink hair and lazy blue eyes. The guard gave him a questioning look. "Nurse? Dr. Lenor told me to check up on Dr. Reid. How was the patient doing?"

Quite miraculously he managed to create a somewhat believable smile. "Everything seems alright. He's resting."

The guard nodded, appearing pleased. "Good, in that case I won't bother him with going in. I heard he'll be going home tomorrow, anyway."

He nodded, trying to keep the emotions that information stirred from showing. "Yes, there's no reason he wouldn't be." Noticing a doctor in a nearby hallway he decided that it was time to go. "Have a good night."

The guard nodded and flashed him a smile that made him feel sick to his stomach. "You too."

He gave her a brief wave, then disappeared into the dark like a nightmare that vanished for a little while to resurface again soon.

* * *

Afternoon was slipping away towards evening when the door of Derek's apartment was pushed open. Clooney, who'd been sleeping quite contentedly on the couch, quickly jumped off and looked eagerly towards the door when hearing the voice of his master. The canine, however, grew confused open hearing another, much less familiar voice. "… don't have to do this, Derek." Even a dog was able to tell that this stranger was tense and nervous.

Derek gave a sound of irritation. "How many times do I have to tell you to quit that crap?"

Taking a step further from the doorway Spencer took a moment to look around. He couldn't help the slight smile that rose to his lips.

Derek's apartment was organized, filled with light colors. Few things screamed out the inhabitant's personality. It was the home of someone who spent most of his time away.

"What's so funny?" Derek inquired.

Spencer shook his head, still not managing to cover the smile. "Nothing. Just… This place looks just like I've imagined."

Derek gave him a clearly faked insulted look. "I thought we had an agreement against profiling one another." The man went on before he got the chance to speak out. "You can use the shower and watch TV whenever you feel like it. Feel free to harvest the kitchen, too, but be careful – when you open the refrigerator something may crawl out."

Spencer nodded and swallowed, feeling slightly uncomfortable once more. It took a while before he managed to speak out. "Look, Morgan… Thanks, for doing this. I…"

He never got the chance to finish, because all of a sudden something black jumped on him with the speed and force of a lightning. He unleashed a rather embarrassing yelp when falling to the floor with the attacker crashing to his chest. It took Spencer a long, chaotic moment to realize that the beast attacking him was just a dog. The canine started licking his face eagerly.

"Looks like Clooney wanted to say 'hi'". Derek didn't even have the decency of trying to hide his grin. "Now that's what I'd call 'the Reid effect'."

Spencer gave the man a sour look, but his attention was soon back on Clooney. Sitting there, with the dog licking his face and feeling safe for the first time in what felt like ages, he couldn't help thinking that perhaps everything would be alright eventually.

* * *

In the headquarters Aaron knew and felt all too well just how little sleep he'd had the night before. He was beyond grateful it was a day off, so he didn't have to come up with a cover-story for Spencer's absence.

He didn't think he would've been able to lie to profilers that day.

He enjoyed the peace of his office, taking care of some paperwork, until there was a sudden knock on his door. He blinked twice when Penelope entered. "Garcia? What are you doing here?"

The look on her face was a immediate warning. She didn't seem to know what to say for a while. "I… I was waiting for Kevin to take me out – you know, after getting off work. And… And then I remembered that there was something I'd forgotten to do. And…" She took a deep breath, visibly trying to get a hold of herself. "You… should see this."

Feeling a sense of dread inside him Aaron followed Penelope to her lair. "What's going on?" he demanded as soon as they entered, watching how the blonde slumped to her seat with a somewhat dazed look on her face.

Penelope swallowed thickly and blinked twice while staring at her computer's screen. "I… A while ago Spencer came to me, and asked me to find out who this phone number belonged to. It belonged to a… dead guy – the caller must've stolen his phone, or something. And… Well, I finally had the time to make a full background check." She held a pause, clearly not knowing how to go on. "After some digging I ran into this."

Aaron leaned forward, curious to see what had gotten her so worked up. Cold seemed to fill the room as what he saw sunk in.

It was a quite old picture of a missing child. The little child in the picture… He had blond hair and thick eyeglasses. But otherwise… There was no mistaking the face, or especially those eyes. The child in the picture was most deffinitely Spencer Reid. Only, that wasn't the name on the paper.

The missing child's name was Cody Jones.

* * *

For once Spencer couldn't remember what he'd been dreaming of when his eyes flew open all of a sudden. It took a while before he realized that the strangled sound came from him. He almost began to calm down until he realized that he wasn't in his own bed at all. And then he realized that there was a firm hand holding him down.

His body prepared to fight until a comfortingly familiar voice spoke. "Damn it, Reid – snap out of it!" Derek's voice carried something Spencer couldn't name in his current condition. The man's hold on him slackened slightly when the other realized that he was becoming coherent. "It was just a dream, okay? Open your eyes and wake up."

Slowly, feeling humiliated and confused, Spencer blinked and managed to crack his eyes halfway open. They flew wide when he saw the tinge of red on the right side of his friend's face. "What happened? Did I… hit you?"

Derek gave him a wry smile, slowly letting go of him. "I took Clooney out to let you sleep. When I came back you were tossing and turning and screaming loud enough to alarm my neighbors. I had to do something before they would've called the police." The man rubbed the injured part of his face gingerly. "You know, for someone light enough to be carried away by wind you've got one hell of a right hook."

Spencer winced, feeling a wave of guilt. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, not quite willing to look at the dark-skinned man. "'Sorry."

Derek waved one hand dismissively. "Hey, seriously, I've received a lot worse hits than this. So stop looking at me like you would've just almost killed me." The man grinned. "Besides, a shiner is a great chick magnet."

Spencer didn't know if he should've rolled his eyes or laughed. The guilt didn't quite fade away while he sighed, rubbing his face with one hand to wake up properly. "Still, I'm sorry."

Derek rolled his eyes. "No harm done, kid. But just so you know… If you tell the others about this, I'll beat the snot out of you. Rossi and Prentiss would never let me live this down."

That actually managed to pull a thin trace of a smile from Spencer. It took a moment before he managed to talk. "You should put some ice on that. It'd help with the swelling." He then wrinkled his nose. "What's this smell?"

Derek made a face. "Oh man, I was supposed to give Clooney a bath…!" Seeing his parted lips the man gave him a warning look. "_Don't_ ask." The man then gave him a frown-marred, somewhat worried glance. "Are you okay?"

Spencer tried to hold back the strange mixture of discomfort and a smile, and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't used to being kept an eye on like this – he didn't know how to deal with all the attention he was getting. "Trust me, I'll be fine for a while." Besides, there was something he needed to do and he didn't want the other man to hear it.

Derek nodded, still appearing slightly doubtful, then left the room.

Spencer waited until he heard the sound of running water before daring to take his cell phone and dialing numbers he hadn't used in a very, very long time – too long. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair while waiting. He didn't notice that he was barely breathing.

It seemed to take forever before there was a response. "_Angel Wings Sanitarium, nurses' office_", a male voice responded. He couldn't understand why the voice sounded almost familiar."_How may I help you?_"

Spencer swallowed, finding it surprisingly hard to breathe properly. "I… would like to talk with one of your patients, Danny Hanson. I've been trying to reach him for the past few days." He closed his eyes for second, realizing that his heart was beating a lot faster than a few moments ago. "I… have some news of Uncle John."

"_Are you a relative?_"

For once – just that once – Spencer decided that it was acceptable to lie. "Yes." He swallowed once more, finding his throat a lot tighter than it should've been. "My name is Cody Jones."

There was a second's pause. "_I'm afraid Danny isn't well enough to talk with you right now. But I'll be sure to leave him a message._"

Spencer frowned, feeling a hint of threat although he couldn't understand why. "Thank you." With that the nurse hung up.

It wasn't until Spencer heard a familiar voice from behind him it occurred to the genius that he should've been more careful. "Reid?" The edge in Derek's tone, along with the look in the man's eyes, revealed that this subject wouldn't be dropped. "Why… the hell did you just call yourself Cody Jones?"

Spencer felt all warmth abandon his body as he began to shake. He'd managed to run away from that particular part of his past for a very long time. Now it seemed that the run had come to an end.

He swallowed thickly before nearly whispering. "Because… Because that's my real name."

* * *

In the sanitarium shadows danced around a man's body and face while he put away the phone, then cast a brief glance towards the corpse lay at his feet. The male nurse's already dead blue eyes were wide with fear, and the man's lips were parted for a scream the world would never hear. The intruder amused himself with wondering what, exactly, the nurse would've screamed if he'd had the chance.

With that thought the intruder turned, losing his interest in the corprse, and left the room. His steps held no uncertainty while he made his way to room number twenty-eight and pushed the door open. He didn't make a sound while sneaking in, all his attention focusing on the man that lay in the room's only bed.

The red color of Danny's hair had paled over the years, he discovered. And it looked like the boy he remembered as slightly plump had diminished to nothing but skin and bones. The intruder's nose wrinkled with distaste.

If someone was so weak that they couldn't survive Uncle John's care, what was the point in letting them live? Uncle John had always been quick to get rid of those who weren't worthy.

With that thought he approached the man. When he pulled out a long knife and kneeled right beside Danny's bed, so that his face was only centimeters away from the other's, the redhead woke up. At first Danny blinked blearily and frowned, clearly wondering if he was still dreaming, but then reality swam in. Danny's green eyes flew wide with nearly animalistic terror when they met his and understood. The firm hand that flew to the redhead's mouth locked his scream into the back of his throat.

The intruder's eyes seemed to hold a touch of red in the moon's light while he placed the knife tightly to Danny's throat and leaned in to whisper. "And then there were two."

It was chillingly quiet in the hallways.

* * *

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hmm, I guess you could call that one a twist…

Soooo… (gulps, looking around somewhat nervously) What's the verdict – was the chapter a decent one? **PLEASE**, do leave a note! They seriously bring a ton of light into my days. (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: A story the team is barely able to believe is told, and they're introduced to the stranger behind a familiar face. Also, Spencer's hospital visitor is introducer. Meanwhile the stalker decides to take the next step… The story continues is 'Cody Jones'.

Until next time, folks! I hope I'll see ya all then.

Take care!

* * *

**ari**: (grins from ear to ear) It really, REALLY makes me happy to hear that, especially since I'm still a bit new to suspence. (hugs)

I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the rest as much.

Gigantic thank yous for the review!  
-

**vetgirl1231**: (chuckles) You're making me grin and blush at my computer, ya know? Thank goodness I'm home alone…

But seriously, I'm ecstatic to hear you've enjoyed the story thus far so! Even though the cliffies seem to be back… (growls at oneself)

Enormous thank yous for the review!


	5. Cody Jones

A/N: Hiya there, folks! FINALLY, it's time for another update. But first…

MASSIVE thank yous for all those fantastic reviews! (glomps) Like I've said before, I'm living somewhat stressfull times right now so hearing your words of encouragement has meant a lot. So THANK YOU! (hugs once more)

Awkay, because I think it's about time to get to the business… (takes a deep breath) I REALLY hope you'll enjoy this one!

* * *

Cody Jones

* * *

/ _Cody couldn't be sure how long he drifted, the endless mass of gray swallowing him up whenever he wasn't careful enough to avoid it. That was until his eyes truly opened to see the wooden ceiling of Uncle John's house._

_Most people would've been ecstatic to realize that they were still alive. Cody felt tears running down his cheeks while a soft, pained whimper erupted through his lips._

_So the nightmare wasn't over yet._

_"Stop weeping, brat." Uncle John's voice was cold, unforgiving. There was a sharp, sickening stench in the air. Cody remembered smelling similar in his father's breath once, when his mother had been taken to a hospital. There'd been ten empty bottles of alcohol in their kitchen and his father had been crying. When he attempted to comfort his father the man lashed out at him._

_That morning Cody was taken away by Uncle John. He wondered, with bitterness that shouldn't have belonged to a child, if his father had even noticed yet._

_Uncle John's voice pulled him harshly back to the present. "I was generous enough to spare your goddamn life, even after the stunt you pulled. The least you owe me is a little bit of fucking gratitude."_

_Cody swallowed, feeling scared and tired. His side hurt so badly that he had to bite his lip to keep himself from whimpering. "T-Thank you", was what he managed, so weakly that it was a miracle if the man heard._

_He saw the large man approach, and realized that he was shaking. It took all his willpower to keep tears at bay when Uncle John caressed his hair and face, then leaned even closer – too close. "Good… Very good…" The man's warm breath made Cody feel sick to his stomach. "That's much better." And then there was a hand roaming around his pants. "Now let's see how good boy you are…"_

_Time didn't move normally for Cody anymore. It felt like eternity passed with the large man taking over him completely, breaching such corners of him that didn't feel ready for the assault. Cody was fairly sure he passed out at some point, because in the middle of it all there were a couple of moments full of black. When it finally ended he felt like he'd been torn to pieces._

_He wanted to throw up and cry, but Uncle John wouldn't allow either. That's why he settled with holding his breath to keep everything locked inside and lay absolutely still, waiting and listening while the man fastened his belt, then got up and paced around restlessly._

_They hadn't spoken in a long time until he finally heard Uncle John's voice. "I have to punish you for the stunt you pulled. Follow me."_

_It was the last thing Cody wanted to do, but he wasn't given much of a choice. Fighting back a whimper at how much it hurt he crawled out of the bed, pulled on his pants properly and followed the large man out of the room. The house's shadows danced around him as they went._

_They went outside, but no alone. On their way out Uncle John asked Oliver – a boy with long-grown, almost white hair and nearly black eyes – to join them. It was around then Cody began to realize that something was horribly wrong._

_Oliver gave Uncle John a somewhat suspicious look when they stood outside the house. "What's… going on?" the child inquired tensely._

_Uncle John's face betrayed nothing. "I've decided that it's time to let one of you go. And that brat is you." When Oliver only stared at the captor with wide, utterly shocked eyes the man roared. "Start running, brat!"_

_It was easy to see how the months in the basement's hell ran through Oliver's head. That's why the child didn't hesitate. When Oliver started to run with the sheer speed of despair – ignoring the fact that there was only forest and nothing in sight – Cody opened his mouth for a scream. Nothing came out._

_And then it was too late._

_His face completely blank of all emotion Uncle John pulled out a gun, aimed and fired without a beat of hesitation. Blood flew to the ground and created a sickening contrast to Oliver's hair when the bullet hit the back of the child's skull. For exactly two seconds Oliver stood, the blood spilling all over his hair, neck and back, until the child suddenly fell to the ground like a ragdoll that'd had its strings cut._

_Cody could only stare at the corpse, the tears he'd managed to fight away for a remarkably long time rolling freely. At that very moment he realized, with child-like conviction, that this death was entirely his fault. And he came to a conclusion that he'd never, ever make it out of the basement alive – he wasn't sure if he even deserved to._

_Uncle John's eyes carried something he'd never seen in them before when they met his tear filled ones. "I hope you understand, now. There's no running away from me."_

_Cody was only able to nod, the shock coursing through him shutting down his body and mind._

_Only four of them remained in the basement._ /

* * *

Considering that every member of the team was present the conference room was incredibly quiet. As they waited for answers everyone's eyes drifted from Spencer to the picture of Cody Jones, which had been placed to the table.

"You're not accused of anything, Reid", Aaron spoke in the end, using the same voice he often wore during interrogations. "But as your team, we need to know the truth."

Spencer appeared nauseous when speaking, not looking at any of them. "I… My name was Cody Jones, once. Before Uncle John." The brunet wrapped his arms around himself in a desperate attempt to shield himself against the monsters of past. The silence seemed to last a lifetime. "He… Uncle John took me from a playground. I was only five and all alone in there – I… I couldn't fight him, when he came and stung me with a needle." Spencer swallowed thickly, visibly fighting back a particularly nasty slash of nausea. "I… don't remember much of what happened, but… He… He said he'd take me to play in a place that was much more fun. I woke up in his basement, with several other boys of my age. I was there for eight months."

Derek felt sick to his stomach while rage, disbelief and sadness melted together and grew. Looking at the others he noticed that their feelings were similar. The usually stone hard faces carried such expressions he'd never seen on them before.

None of them asked what happened during those eight months, partially because they didn't want to know, partially because they already knew. They were profilers – they'd faced sick fucks like Uncle John. And what they didn't know Spencer's eyes gave away.

Penelope blinked away the moisture in her eyes when reaching out a hand towards Spencer's shoulder, then changing her mind. "Oh, sweetie…"

"Tell me that piece of shit is locked up behind bars", David hissed through his teeth, his voice filled with venom that didn't want to be soothed.

Spencer still didn't look towards any of them while gritting his teeth. "He's dead now. Has been for a long time."

Derek nodded, feeling between glad and disappointed. He was glad Uncle John was now nothing but dust and bones. But a part of him mused that death was a much too merciful fate for the monster.

It was easy to tell how little Emily wanted to ask, but she couldn't avoid the question. "The other children… What happened to them?"

There were tears in Spencer's eyes but they didn't spill. "We… We didn't all make it out of that basement."

Derek's eyes flew wide and intense nausea swelled inside him once more. "Shit…" was what he managed to sputter.

Spencer closed his eyes and looked away, appearing ashamed. It was easy to tell how memories flashed through his mind as sharply as photographs. "There… There were seven of us, at one point. I don't know how many there were… you know, before my time." The man licked his lips, trembling slightly. "Only four of us made it out."

Derek had absolutely no idea what to say, and he didn't think he would've even dared to attempt talking – there was no telling what might've come out of his mouth. He could only stare at his friend who looked like a total stranger all of a sudden.

In the room's dim light, with all the lingering shadows, he saw the shadow surrounding Spencer's aura of innocence for the very first time. He knew exactly what that shadow was about – and he would've never wanted to see it hanging around one of his friends.

And suddenly, without a warning, Derek's own memories came flooding in. In his current state of mind they were too much.

He turned around and headed towards the nearest exit as fast as he could without making it a run. On his way he felt someone's eyes following him and hoped dearly that the others would understand.

Outside Derek took a long, deep breath of fresh air and closed his eyes, focusing on evening his breathing. It was a challenge, especially with how much he would've wanted to tear something apart.

His breaths were sharp and loud while he balled his fists so tightly it hurt, gritting his teeth to keep himself from screaming,

Those kids – Spencer… They were only five! They were small, innocent and defenseless, and that son of a bitch…

If he'd gotten his hands on that Uncle John…

That thought became cut when he felt something wet on his cheek all of a sudden. He looked towards the sky with a frown to discover that there was no rain. His eyebrows furrowing even further he brought his fingers to his cheek, then looked at them with mild wonder.

On one of his fingertips lingered a single teardrop, shining like a diamond.

* * *

Brown eyes were filled with something one could only call dangerous while observing the metallic chains hanging from a store's ceiling. There was a great variety of chains that looked almost like torture equipment; some of them even carried spikes. The front of his pants began to feel far too tight when he imagined the spikes cutting through flesh and he could almost smell the blood…

His thoughts were cut by a surprisingly low female voice. "Hi there, Sugar. Do you have your eyes on something special?"

He turned his gaze slightly to find who was apparently the store's employee. She was a about twenty-years-old young woman dressed in heavy metallic chains, a huge amount of piercings and black leather that was almost too little to hide her critical areas. Her angrily cut, short hair screamed in the color of pink and her blood red eyes were obviously a creation of contact lenses.

'Bunny', her skull-shaped nametag said. He felt a touch of disgust.

"Yes", he murmured in the end, his fingers brushing one of the chains almost tenderly. "I'd… like to make a purchase."

Bunny's eyebrow arched while she gave him a far from coy smile. "Planning a surprise for someone special?"

He had to restrain a smirk that might've given too much away. He didn't have too much faith in the girl's intelligence, but he couldn't take unnecessary risks right now. "Yes", he confirmed with a look he assumed suitable for the situation at hand. "It's going to be… a very special surprise, for our anniversary."

Bunny grinned. "I see."

He barely noticed her gather together the list of equipment he wanted, for his mind was overtaken by Uncle John's voice.

'_Looks like I trained you well_', the man congratulated, making his heart swell. '_You've done well. And soon, it's time to meet the last one…_'

His eyes flashed dangerously in the small store's shadows.

* * *

When Spencer had spent almost half an hour in a toilet the team decided that it was time to go and make sure everything was alright. To their stun Emily volunteered.

"Maybe it should be a woman approaching him right now", was the best excuse she could come up with. Truthfully she had no clue of what she was doing or why.

She hesitated behind the toilet's door for almost a minute before finally knocking and calling out. "Reid, it's me." She wondered why her throat felt painfully tight. "You've been there for a while – are you okay?" When there was no response she grabbed the door handle. "I'm coming in."

A part of Emily's heart broke at what she found inside. Spencer had slumped to the floor, leaning heavily against the wall. The man wasn't crying but his eyes seemed suspiciously red and puffy. The stench that still lingered in the air told that the genius had been sick not too long ago. Even now Spencer appeared several shades paler than usual, and years younger – almost fragile.

She stood there for a moment, wondering what the next move should be. And then she made her decision.

Spencer stiffened when she sat beside him on the cold, most likely filthy floor but didn't say a thing. She didn't speak for a long moment either, letting him get used to the idea of her being close instead.

Emily couldn't be sure, but she was fairly sure a couple of minutes had passed until she spoke in quiet, controlled tone. "I… I have no idea what you went through. Especially with your memory…" She paused, choosing her next words carefully, and took a deep breath. "But… I know what it's like, to carry around that load of secrets with you – it's a good thing you finally let it out." She dared to direct a tiny smile towards him although he wasn't looking. "And I'm glad to know the real you, now."

At first Spencer didn't react in any way. But then, so suddenly that she almost missed it, there was the tiniest of nods. Some of the tension disappeared from the young man.

It was silent for the longest time until Spencer spoke all of a sudden in a near whisper. "The others… Do you think they'll understand?" There was genuine, naked worry and sadness in the brunet's eyes when they finally turned towards her.

Emily nodded without a hint of hesitation, feeling a unexplainable and barely controllable need to take his hand. "Of course they will. What kind of a family would they be if they didn't?" She didn't have the heart to remind him how much sorting out there was to be done, how many questions were still unanswered. Enough scars had been torn open already.

She came to a realization that it felt very, very good to see some of the shadows disappear from Spencer's eyes. "Thanks, Emily." She realized he knew she hadn't been perfectly honest with him, but at the moment he needed the comfort, the reassurance. Even for a genius a fool's hope was better than no hope.

They both shivered slightly when the room's door was opened after a brief knock. Aaron's eyes carried barely any emotions while the man peered in. "Is… everything alright?"

When it appeared Spencer was in no condition to respond Emily nodded. "Yeah, we're good."

Aaron nodded back, seeming to read between the lines. "In that case, Reid, there's someone who wants to see you." The unit chief went on after getting his youngest subordinate's attention. "It's that man from the hospital."

The flash in Spencer's eyes left Emily surprised and curious. It took a moment and a loud clearing of throat before the brunet managed to respond. "'K. I… I'll be there in a moment."

Aaron nodded, then opened his mouth as though about to say something. In the end, however, the man seemed to change his mind and left the room instead.

Once they were alone again Emily looked at Spencer, trying to keep her expression and tone light. "I guess we should go, right?"

He took a deep breath and swallowed, most likely to hold back another bout of nausea. "Yeah."

Emily had always considered Spencer the baby of the bunch, Derek even called him a kid. But as she watched the genius wash his face, then walk out of the room with stiff steps, it occurred to her that his eyes seemed older than any other teammember's. Now she finally knew why.

* * *

Erin Strauss had basically no field experience. That's why her instincts weren't sharp enough to detect threat when she stood in a elevator in the BAU headquarters. She was so deep in thought that she didn't even notice how someone joined her.

In fact, she wasn't alarmed until she suddenly realized that the elevator had stopped in the middle of floors.

She frowned, looking around. It didn't look like anything was wrong – so why…?

"Don't… turn around", a male voice she'd never heard before spoke all of a sudden. It wasn't above whisper, but nonetheless made her skin crawl. There was a second's pause. "I have no intention of harming you – I'm no threat to you. So stay still."

Erin swallowed thickly, her heartbeat speeding up. "What do you want from me?" And how the hell had this person managed to sneak into the building?

"To talk. Or rather, to give you a valuable tip." The intruder was so close that she could feel his breath. "How well do you think you know your agents?"

She frowned again. "What do you mean?"

"You see… Sometimes, we're too blind to see what's right in front of us. To see that the people we see every single day aren't who they seem." There was another pause. "Someone's been lying to you, Erin. Someone's been keeping secrets. Do you find that acceptable from one of your agents?"

She grit her teeth, not liking the situation at hand at all. "What are you talking about?"

"Get to know him, Erin – the real him. Then decide exactly how much more you're willing to overlook."

Less than a blink later the elevator was moving once more. Erin spun around a second after the doors opened, only to discover that the intruder had already disappeared. All that remained was a thick file that lay on the elevator's floor, a step away from her.

'Cody Jones' read on top of it.

* * *

When Spencer emerged from the headquarters he wasn't surprised that his visitor had refused to come in. After all, he'd personally told the man to stay hidden from his team. That'd succeeded until their frosty meeting in the hospital. He wondered why the team hadn't asked him about the stranger yet; perhaps the information he'd given so far was already too much.

The man – agent Ray Holloway from the witness protection program – gave him his usual stiff nod. "I figured I shouldn't come inside." The man nodded towards the guard stood by the building's door with a grumpy expression. "Besides, I doubt the gorilla would've let me in."

Spencer nodded lightly, then frowned. "So… What are you doing here?"

Ray shrugged. "I came to see how you're doing." The man's eyes scanned through the building's windows. "I just met your boss."

Spencer swallowed thickly, a horrendous taste filling his mouth. "I… just told them, today."

Ray's eyebrow arched. "You told them everything?"

Spencer looked away. "Most of it", he admitted reluctantly.

Ray nodded. There was a moment of silence before the man sighed. "I… hate bringing bad news to you, especially now. But you deserve to know." The man's eyes were trained on him, as though trying to determine whether he was ready to hear something or not. "Danny Hanson is dead. The killer broke into his sanitarium last night."

All warmth and breath left Spencer's body for a moment, and his eyes widened.

Danny… Danny was supposed to be safe – he was supposed to be in a place where he'd get help, where the monsters wouldn't haunt him anymore. How the hell was this possible?

Ray sighed. "I'm sorry, Cody."

Spencer swallowed thickly, feeling even more sick to his stomach than before. It took a mighty while before he managed to produce a sound. "I'm next, right?"

Ray nodded. "I'd like to have you in a safehouse." The man went on before he had the chance to protest. "Think about your team – including that teammember you live with right now. I'm sure you don't want to turn them into targets. We'll catch that guy, but until then it's safest for you all if you hide."

The cold was back. Spencer's eyes strayed towards the windows behind which he knew his team, his family, to be. "So… I need to disappear."

Ray nodded again and sighed. "It's only temporary this time." They wanted to believe that, although neither of them could be sure.

Ray went on after giving him a long moment to digest the news. "I'll come and pick you up myself tomorrow – you'll have until then to explain, and tell them everything." With that the man began to leave and abandon him to his thoughts, until the distancing steps paused all of a sudden. "Just… One more thing. Back in the hospital, did you say you called the agency over a week ago?"

Spencer nodded, his eyebrows furrowing. His brain seemed to be too clouded by shock to let him think clearly. "Yeah – I tried to reach you, to tell you what was going on, but they said you were unavailable. Why?"

The look that appeared to Ray's eyes wasn't a encouraging sign. "There was no sign of such a phone call in our system, Cody. Whoever you talked to… It wasn't one of us."

* * *

The two of them didn't know that they had audience.

There was a dark look on Aaron's face while he observed the youngest member of his team, arms folded to his chest.

They still didn't have answers to a lot of important questions, including why Spencer changed his name in the first place and how, exactly, he made it out of that hell, and who that stranger was. But the unanswered bits weren't what his mind focused on.

A member of the BAU family, his youngest agent, had been through such a hell. How could he not have known? How had Spencer hidden such a nightmare from a team of profilers?

Who was the real person inside the man who shot out facts and statistics, who could drink a gallon of coffee without flinching, who did magic tricks on duty, who stubbornly attempted to talk down dangerous UnSubs?

And what the hell would come out of all this? Because Aaron had a sinking feeling that this all was far from over.

David's sudden voice made him stiffen at first. "This feels like a weird dream", the older man commented.

Aaron sighed, feeling old beyond his years. "Yeah." He grit his teeth, taking in the look of shock and anguish on Spencer's face as the younger man heard something from the stranger he clearly didn't like. Aaron could only wonder what was going on.

This could turn ugly, he realized. This could turn really ugly.

David also looked out the window to see that Spencer was now stood there alone. The genius appeared even younger than usual. David seemed to inhale a sigh. "What do you think is going to happen to him?"

Aaron shook his head. This time he really didn't have any answers, he didn't have a clue. And he hated it.

Just then he sensed someone's eyes on him. He peered over his shoulder and tensed up.

Stood there, a respectable distance away, was Erin Strauss. Aaron didn't like the look she had on her face. "We need to talk", she announced.

* * *

During the time Spencer had known him Derek had never, ever been a quiet person. That's why the silence that lingered in the man's car as they drove home felt unnatural and uncomfortable to him.

In the end Spencer decided that he needed to be the one to open the conversation. He cleared his throat and licked his lips, feeling almost as uncomfortable as he had earlier that day when… "I… I understand, if you're…"

"Hey." Derek's voice was sharp and deffinitely commanding, but not hostile. Spencer took that as a good sign. "Stop that line of thought right there, kid. Got that?"

Spencer's discomfort from before returned and intensified when the older man pulled over to a nearby bus stop. "You know that this isn't allowed, right?" he attempted feebly.

Derek gave him a loudly speaking look. "Yes, I am aware of that. But does it look like I care?" The man's eyes then turned towards him, all too serious. "I really wish you'd told me, about everything. Because I… I would've understood."

Spencer looked away, letting his eyes focus on the airplane that lingered high up in the sky. His throat felt blocked although he couldn't understand why. "I'm sorry."

Derek sighed, sounding tired all of a sudden. "Just… Promise me, that when you feel ready for it you'll talk to me. And if you ever keep secrets like this again I'll ban you from all coffee for a month. Do we have a deal?"

Finally, for the first time in close to forever, Spencer found a genuine smile making its way to his face. It was weak and pale, but a real one nonetheless. "Yeah", he breathed out, his aching muscles finally relaxing. "It's a deal."

"Good." Derek sounded much calmer already, like all necessary had been spoken for the time being. The man started the car once more. Silence lingered for a long moment until the man spoke again. "Chinese or pizza?"

Spencer frowned, feeling a sudden bout of nausea. "I'm not hungry."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You haven't eaten all day. Do you really think I believe you? Besides, Garcia's gonna kill me if I let you get any skinnier than you already are. So Chinese or pizza?"

"I could cook", Spencer suggested.

Derek stared at him with very open stun. "You cook?"

Spencer shrugged, feeling amused and irritated at the same time. "I do feed myself, Morgan." He shrugged again. "Consider it a thanks, for letting me stay with you."

Derek grinned. "Having my own personal chef? Sounds like a damn good deal, kid."

The journey continued in a comfortable silence.

* * *

A keen pair of eyes observed Spencer and Derek as they climbed out of the car and walked towards the large doors of Derek's apartment building.

His eyes flashed with impatience and something much darker, and he squeezed the steering wheel so hard it hurt.

Patience, he told himself. Patience was a virtue. That's what Uncle John always told him, and Uncle John never lied.

There was only one more left. And soon, very soon, it would all be over. It would all be done. He wouldn't have to wait much longer.

With that thought soothing him, he started the car and drove away just as Spencer looked over his shoulder, sensing someone looking. A tiny, crooked smile appeared to the driver's face.

Now, he'd go and finish the preparations.

Once he was done there'd only be one.

* * *

TBC, right?

* * *

A/N: Sooo… It looks like the encounter is about to happen, no? (shudders)

**PLEASE**, leave a note to let me know what you thought of the chapter! (gives puppy's eyes) Did it suck or pull you along? I'd REALLY like to hear from ya guys.

IN THE NEXT ONE: As the team struggles to digest the recent shock and some new news, Strauss gives them all and especially Reid a very nasty surprise. When both the stalker and good guys are heading towards Reid, it's a race against time. Who will make it to him first?

Until next time, guys! 'Hope you'll be tuned then.

Take care!

* * *

**ari**: So I managed to surprise you, huh? (grins)

Gosh, it makes me extremely happy to hear that you've enjoyed the story thus far so much. And that you wait for the next chapter so eagerly…! (grins from ear to ear) Especially since this is my about second or third story where suspese is another one of the major themes.

Monumental thank yous for the review! I really hope you'll keep enjoying the ride.

**vetgirl1231**: Weeell, I guess it was a bit of a surprise… (smirks)

I'm super happy to hear that you enjoyed the chapter. (sighs happily)

Ah, as for cliffies… No worries, there's bound to be more of those. (smirks sadistically)

Huge thank yous for the review!


	6. The Lost Children

A/N: GAH! What a ride it's been in my life. As of lately there's been so many twists and turns that my head's still spinning. But now everything's finally starting to calm down – which means that the new chapter is FINALLY here. (grins apologetically) I'm so, so sorry about the long wait!  
And, gosh… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for all those absolutely amazing reviews! You've seriously kept this story alive, ya know? So thank you! (glomps)

Awkay, because you've been waiting for ages already, let's rock! I really hope this chapter turns out worth the wait. (winces)

* * *

The Lost Children

* * *

/ _In the basement's shadows Cody found himself losing the track of time. In the end he didn't even want to count the days. Every day he felt more and more sick to his stomach, to a point where he had to throw up fives times a day._

_The only good thing in the hell were the books. Uncle John noticed quite soon that Cody knew how to read already. Such feat impressed the man. Since then Cody received one book whenever the man was in a good mood, each slightly more challenging than the previous one. He read them all with child-like excitement. The only downside was that all too often Uncle John ordered him to read out loud to the man, but Cody didn't mind. He liked reading much more than most of the other things the man made him do._

_That – the world of books and constant, looming terror over what was to come – became Cody's new reality. One day that version of normalcy was disturbed by unexpected visitors._

_Uncle John had been angry about something the day before, so he'd taken away the few sources of light there'd been in the room. That's why it was impossible to tell what time of a day it was when Cody opened his eyes and frowned, feeling a hint of panic at the dark that wrapped around him. It took a moment before he realized that two of the other children – Danny and Joshua – were kneeling nearby the hatch. "What…?" he started, but became interruped when Joshua put a finger to his lips. That was when he heard it._

_There was talking. Uncle John had company._

_"… detective Strauss and officer Reid from Philadelphia P.D. We'd like to ask you a couple of questions."_

_"About what?" Even a child could detect the nervousness in Uncle John's tone._

_There was a moment of silence. "When's the last time you met Nick Lohman?"_

_"My ex brother in law? It must be months ago. He and Christina, my sister, divorced last year. Why are you asking?"_

_"A jogger's dog found his body__ by the Delaware River this morning. He'd been killed a few days ago."_

_There was a moment of silence. "Shit… Do you have any idea who did it?"_

_"Where were you last Thurday between six and eight pm?"_

_Uncle John emitted a sound the children didn't manage to name. "Do you seriously think that I did it?"_

_"According to Christina she called Nick that afternoon, and asked him to come and see you because she was in England. She never heard from him again. She also told us she's worried about you."_

_"Well Christina doesn't have a fucking clue of my life anymore." Something, most likely a wall, was punched with brutal force. "Fuck! She's giving you shit about me again, just like she did when we were kids. Are you really buying that crap?"_

_"Just answer the question, Dr. Waldon." The officer's voice carried a sharp edge._

_"I was out of town, visiting a friend", Uncle John finally spoke through grit teeth._

_"Does that friend have a name?"_

_It was around then Cody realized that the chance he'd been waiting for had arrived. There were other adults present, now. They'd be able to help._

_"Help!" he called out, with the full power of despair. "Help us! We're…!" He never managed to finish, because just then a small yet firm hand took a hold of his hair and the pull made him fly down the stairs. He cried out when hitting his head to a sharp corner of the stairs._

_His head spun, which was why the speech sounded distant to his ears. "… the hell was that noise?" one of the police men demanded._

_"My TV." By then Uncle John sounded absolutely furious. "Now, unless you've got a warrant get the hell out of my property."_

_Once more Cody attempted to scream, but a stony hand was slammed to his mouth._

_Liam's eyes were pure lava while the child glared at him, keeping him silent with all the strength the child had. "Don't… make another sound, traitor."_

_Upstairs steps could be heard. "Fine. But we'll be back, Dr. Waldon. And we'll have a warrant. Don't leave the city."_

_"I won't", Uncle John hissed. With that a door was closed. Hope vanished._

_Cody looked up towards Liam when the boy pulled back the hand covering his mouth, feeling furious, devastated, shocked, confused and betrayed. Tears filled his eyes while pain pulsated behind his ear, where the blow had hit. "Why… Why did you do that? Don't you want to go home?"_

_Liam's eyes were completely serious as the boy looked at him. "This is home. Don't you get that? I won't let you take it away from us."_

_Just then the hatch opened. Cody had never seen as much rage in Uncle John's eyes as he did just then, when the two pools of ice looked directly at him. "You… Do you have any fucking clue of what you just did, brat? You could've had me sent into a prison!"  
Cody swallowed thickly, already guessing what was to come. __"I… I'm sorry."_

_Uncle John shook his head sharply. "No, you're not, not yet. But trust me, you will be."_

_The attack came so fast that Cody had no chance of seeing it coming. Before he realized that the man was stood beside him the man was kicking him, so hard that eventually there was a sickening crack. Cody opened his mouth when pain surged through his entire body, but didn't manage to produce a sound. The pain was absolutely everywhere in his tiny form._

_Cody must've collapsed, because the next thing he realized was that he was falling – and landed on something extremely hard. With wide eyes he looked around in the tiny, confined space – and realized that he was in a dry, stone-floored well._

_His eyes widening still he looked up to realize that Uncle John was just sliding something dark and metallic to cover the well. The man gave him a look that'd never leave his nightmares. "Maybe this will teach you something about obeying the rules, brat." Cody was too much in a shock to even scream when the man sealed him from the rest of the world. Tears rolled down his cheeks while he began to tremble uncontrollably._

_Cody Jones' world became completely dark._ /

* * *

When Derek woke up at around four in the morning he couldn't tell immediately what had disturbed his rest. Then he heard the sound of a coffee maker.

Derek blinked twice, furiously trying to wake himself up, then forced his incredibly stiff body out of the bed and made his way to the kitchen. What he found broke his heart and filled him with warmth at the same time.

Sure enough, Spencer was wide awake, sitting at the kitchen table and looking out the room's window with glazed over eyes while waiting for coffee. One of the brunet's hands scratched absentmindedly the sensitive spot behind Clooney's ear while the dog rested his head on the young man's lap, looking at the genius with adoring eyes.

Derek didn't really want to disturb the strange scene's frail peace, but he knew he had to do something. "Reid?" he dared to call out in the end. "What are you doing up?"

Spencer jumped with startle and looked swiftly towards him. It took a long moment before the brunet's eyes gained recognition and calmed down. "'Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

Derek shook his head, fighting back a yawn. "It's okay, kid." He frowned. "But seriously, what are you doing up? You do realize what time it is, right?"

Spencer swallowed and looked away once more, scratching Clooney a bit more forcefully than before. "I… was having nightmares. Nothing I haven't faced before."

Derek felt a stab of sadness. He also had nightmares, sometimes, and he could imagine Spencer's were a lot worse. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Spencer shook his head immediately, squirming on his seat with discomfort. The silence stretched. "Did you know that the average person has about 1460 dreams a year? That's about four per night."

Derek wasn't sure whether he wanted to roll his eyes or smile. "You're trying to distract me. And it's not working."

Spencer first focused on Clooney, then stared out the window to avoid looking at him. It seemed to take ages before the brunet spoke. "I just… I wish I could stop seeing them all in my dreams every night. I wish…" The younger man swallowed and blinked rapidly, clearly fighting back tears. Clooney emitted a whimper and looked up at the brunet. "I wish I could forget, at least for a moment." The tiny chuckle that came sounded wet and bitter. "So much for the perks of having a eidetic memory."

At first Derek could only stare at his friend, such amount of opening up striking him speechless. It took a while before he realized that this was the chance he'd been waiting for. "Have you ever… talked about any of that, with anyone? I mean… A professional?" He knew he was dangling on dangerous waters, but he had to ask. Because that look in his best friend's eyes…

To his surprise, perhaps, Spencer didn't pull his guard right on at that question. Instead the genius shook his head, so lightly it could barely be seen. "When… When mom first heard the name Spencer, that look on her face… I'll never forget it. She looked like I'd died and been brought back to life." There was a long pause while Spencer gathered himself together. "She… She accepted that new name, savoured it. All the horrors of those eight months… Her illness made it easy for her to wipe them away, to make them nothing but a sick conspiracy. As far as she was concerned, her son's name had never been Cody. And I…" This time there was a single tear which the brunet didn't seem to notice. "You can't even imagine how good it felt, to have it all wiped away, to pretend that it never happened! Of course I knew it did, but even pretending…" Spencer was shaking so badly that sitting upright was visibly difficult. "When we moved to Vegas, as Reids… It's the best day of my life." Finally, finally the younger man looked at him – and he shuddered. Those eyes… He didn't know them. "I… I died in that basement, Morgan. I know it doesn't make any sense, but I did. Cody Jones did." The brunet's voice broke. "That little boy Uncle John took there… He never made it out."

Derek had absolutely no idea what to say to that, and in the end he chose what was most likely the worst option. "What… about your father? How did he take it all?"

Once more Spencer's eyes changed, to such that sent a stab of worry through him. Before he could utter a word, however, the brunet went on, looking away once more. "I… I've got a headache", the genius murmured.

Derek inhaled a sigh, feeling old beyond his years. "I'll go and get you something."

"Thanks."

When he came back with two pills and a glass of water it appeared Spencer was at least somewhat composed once more. Neither of them spoke while the brunet accepted the offerings and consumed them, never once meeting his eyes.

It seemed to take ages before he suddenly heard Spencer's barely audible voice. "You know… I've been Spencer Reid longer than I was Cody Jones. It feels weird, that the name's come up again."

Derek attempted to smile, but had a feeling it came out feebly. "I bet it does, kid." He then yawned, unable to resist it any longer, and took a peek towards the clock. It was five thirty in the morning – there was no use in going to bed anymore. He glanced towards his friend and felt his heart ache at all the shadows looming around the younger man. He couldn't understand how Spencer had managed to hide that load from them for all those years. "You know… I think that by now the coffee you'd been making tastes worse than the one we have at work. What do say if I make some more?"

Spencer nodded with almost child-like gratitude. Finally there was a trace of a smile on the brunet's lips. It was pale, barely existent, but at least it was real. And for a moment that was more than enough.

Casting a secret glance towards Spencer a bit later, Derek hoped that nightmare the man had been having was finally over, now – at least for tonight.

* * *

Usually Aaron was the first member of the team to enter the building. That's why he was surprised when he came to notice that there was already someone waiting for him. He frowned when seeing Spencer pacing by the door of his office. There was a extremely nervous look on the young man's face.

"Reid?" he inquired, managing to startle the brunet. "What… are you doing here this early?" Suddenly what Erin had said to him the day before echoed in his ears.

/ _"He's kept a secret of this magnitude from us. And one of your UnSubs, Joshua Martel… According to reports he never told any of you that he used to know that man. He's broken several protocols. So… I'm sorry, but I don't have a clue what's going to happen to him."_ /

As Aaron looked at his youngest agent he couldn't help feeling a bout of guilt upon realizing that he'd failed to protect Spencer after everything the man had gone through. But just one glance into Spencer's eyes revealed that the genius had similar emotions.

All of a sudden his body felt very, very cold under a wave of dread.

Spencer swallowed thickly, running a hand through his hair. "I… I came this early, because I didn't want to see the others. Because I didn't want to explain this to them."

Aaron frowned. "Explain what?"

Unable to produce a word the brunet handed him a sheet of paper. Aaron recognized it all too well even without reading.

It was a resignation report.

Feeling even colder than before Aaron looked at Spencer, his eyes demanding answers. "What's this?"

Spencer's body shook in effort to hold back a storm. There was a crushing amount of grief in the genius' eyes. "I… I hope I'll get the chance to explain one day. But… Right now I have to go away for a while. For everyone's sake."

Aaron didn't want to let Spencer just walk away, not with everything the team had just found out of their youngest. But this time, just this once, he had no other choice.

He didn't know how long the silence had lasted until Spencer spoke in near whisper. "Just… Don't tell the others until in four hours, okay? By then… By then I'll be gone."

Aaron sighed, his impossibly heavy shoulders slumping. "They're not going to take it well, especially after JJ."

"I know." Gosh, he'd never seen the kind of sadness and remorse that lingered in Spencer's eyes just then. The brunet's body seemed to be twitching slightly. "Could you… Could you tell them I'm sorry? And that they don't have to worry?"

Aaron nodded, so helpless that it made him want to scream. "I will." What else could he possibly do, really?

Relief brought some life back into Spencer's eyes, although only for a moment. "Thank you."

Then Spencer did something that most likely shocked them both. Rapidly, on the spur of the moment, the man's arms wrapped around Aaron, who found himself responding reflexively. The embrace reminded him all too much of another, much more distant nightmare.

/ _"I knew you'd understand."_ /

And then, just as suddenly as the moment had began, it was over. Spencer let go, took a couple of steps away and gave him wave. The thin smile on the brunet's face was broken, empty. A second later the genius turned around and began to walk away.

Spencer _would_ come back, Aaron told himself firmly, perhaps even desperately, while watching the man's distancing back. So… Why did he feel like he'd never see the genius again?

* * *

Erin Strauss was just taking off her jacket and preparing for a new day of work when Spencer entered her office. Unlike he'd expected she appeared pleased to see him. "Good. I've been waiting for a chance to get to talk with you."

Spencer nodded. At that very moment he spotted the file lay on Erin's desk. His heart skipped a beat when he noticed a sticker that said 'Cody Jones' on top of it. "Where did you get that from?" he managed to utter after a long moment.

Erin's eyes were all too serious when she looked at him. "Someone… approached me yesterday." There was a pause. "I assume you know what's going on."

Spencer swallowed. Of course he'd known that this conversation was inevitable, but he still didn't like it. "I'm not sure yet, but… I think Liam's back." His mouth went on before his mind got the chance to catch up with it. "I wasn't sure at first, but… Then he left me two notes. He told me he'd get to me eventually, no matter what. That I wouldn't walk out alive." He felt almost horrifyingly calm. Perhaps he was in a shock.

Erin sighed heavily, rubbing her face with one hand. "You do realize that I'll have to report this further, don't you? And I'll have to suspend you, at least for a while."

Spencer shook his head, his jawline tightening. "You won't have to do any of that, because I resign." He went on before she got the chance to say a word. "I… I know that it's the right way – the only way."

Erin frowned, clearly not liking the idea. "Do you have a safe place to be in?"

He nodded, unsure which one of them he was trying to convince. "I'll be fine."

Erin nodded back and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "What do you want me to tell the others?"

Spencer shook his head, feeling choked all of a sudden. This stung a lot more than he'd expected. "I… I already talked to Hotch. He's going to tell the others later, when I've…" He discovered that he couldn't say the rest.

They looked at each other for a moment, neither feeling the need to say anything.

It was amusing, really, that for the about first time there was finally something close to understanding between them.

And then Spencer realized that he was turning around, walking out on the life he'd fought so very hard to build together. He blinked furiously against the stinging sensation that took over his eyes. This wasn't the time and place to fall apart.

He almost made it out of the room until Erin's voice spoke once more. "Dr. Reid?" There was a look of sympathy and something else on her face. "Take care of yourself."

He nodded, knowing that there weren't any words that would've sounded proper.

On his way out he couldn't keep himself from stopping once more, to such spot from which he could safely observe his team – his new family.

Derek and Penelope were fooling around, saying something Spencer couldn't hear from where he was standing. David joined in with what was most likely a witty comment. Emily observed the whole commotion with a smile on her face, eventually throwing in a line of her own. And Aaron was stood by the doorway of his office, guarding his team with thoughtful eyes.

It wasn't until at that moment Spencer realized that he might never see them again. That thought alone nearly made his heart burst with such agony he'd never experienced before.

All he could do was hope that one day, they'd find a way to forgive him.

With that final wish he walked away, moving as quickly as possible to avoid being seen. Because if he'd heard a single word from any of them he would've never been able to do what he had to.

He left the life and people he'd grown to love like a ghost, not daring to look over his shoulder.

* * *

Mandy Christensen felt cold and sick to her stomach while she stood outside the building where witness protection unit worked, wind playing with her long reddish-brown hair. Her skin tingled with discomfort when she took a glance towards her wristwatch. Her light-brown eyes narrowed.

Liam was late.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting." The voice came to suddenly that if she'd been a little bit less professional she might've yelped. She shuddered when feeling his warm breath on her neck. "Did you bring it?"

Feeling even more nauseated than before she handed him a tiny note, rage flickering in her eyes. "You promised to leave my mother alone."

"And I'm a man of my word – I'll do just that." The man sounded unnervingly calm. "But I never said anything about you, did I?"

A blade flashed in the light of a soon darkening evening. Mandy didn't emit a sound, even though she knew for a fact that she was going to die. She'd seen several photographs of this man's work – she knew what he was capable of. She knew pictures of her would be added to that collection very soon.

* * *

Spencer felt utterly cold while he stood in the living room of his apartment, letting his eyes linger on everything familiar.

Leaving everything behind… was harder than he'd expected. A lot harder. It wasn't until at that very moment he realized how deep the roots he'd formed to this life went.

Ray's voice caught him off guard. "Are you ready to go?"

He swallowed and steeled himself before managing to nod. "You said that this is only temporary." His voice sounded hollow, like something had been carved out of him. "What are the chances of that actually being true?"

Ray gave him a small, sad smile. "You tell me. You're the statistics-wonder out of us two."

That actually managed to coax a tiny smile out of Spencer, despite the fact that he could guess the statistics – and he knew they were against him.

Spencer grit his teeth, forcing his mind back on track. No matter how little he liked it his time was up. It was time to go, to face a brand new reality.

Ray's eyes were full of undestanding. "Let's get going, then."

Spencer nodded, doing his best to keep himself composed. "'K."

Before heading out, however, Spencer glanced towards a table where a lonely envelope was waiting. '_To the team_', he'd written on top of it.

He'd written that letter as a message of goodbye, just in case…

Cutting that thought with a firm grit of teeth he followed Ray through the apartment's door, noticing that it made a familiar screech when he closed it softly.

This was only temporary. As soon as Ray's team would find Liam he'd be able to come back home again. So there was no need to say goodbye to anything.

Right?

* * *

The safehouse was a lot smaller than Liam had expected; just a tiny one room apartment in a block of flats, with blinds pulled tightly to cover its one small window. And it located in what was most likely one of the sleepiest parts of the city.

Those two things made his work a lot easier. The clearly officious, young male guard stood outside the apartment's door, on the other hand, didn't.

In the safety of shadows he stood and waited, seething when Cody and the witness protection agent whose name he didn't know kept talking.

And then, so suddenly that it almost surprised him, the agent emerged with a grim look on his face. "The kid… isn't taking this too well", the man explained. "Could you get him some sparkling water? Maybe it'd make him feel better. I'll keep watch in the meantime."

The guard didn't appear all too happy about his newest task. "Sure."

Liam's head was buzzing while he weighed his options. This agent was too much of a challenge – too great of a risk. But that guard…

His eyes flashed when his decision was made. And just then the guard returned with a bottle. The two men exchanged gruff byes before the agent left and the guard began working on the safe apartment's door.

Liam's chance had arrived. He wasted no time before pulling out a long, extremely sharp blame and beginning to approach his victim.

The guard's eyes widened when the man spun around and saw him. "What the…?"

A long, swift wrist movement took care of his problem. Blood flew all over the walls and his clothes, but he didn't even notice. All that fit into his head was that now, there was nothing holding him back.

Swiftly and soundlessly he took the bottle the guard had been holding, then pulled out a needle full of clear liquid from his small bag and pressed the needle through plastic. Less than five seconds later the drug merged fluently into water.

His eyes flashed when he put down the bottle. And just then the bathroom door opened. He barely made it to a nearby closet before Cody emerged, immediately noticing the bottle. From the safety of the closet he watched how Cody took a mighty gulp of the water, and he grinned so that his teeth showed.

He'd been so very patient for such a long time. But now…

Now, it was only a matter of minutes.

* * *

Exactly three hours and fifty minutes after his talk with Spencer Aaron decided that it was time to bite the bullet and share the bad news with the team – they were already suspicious, anyway. They took the news just as badly as he'd feared.

Penelope's eyes immediately filled with tears while she brought a hand to her lips, which was painful even to watch. She looked hurt, wounded. David, on the other hand, didn't seem to know what to think. There was a troubled look in his eyes while he folded his arms and leaned heavily against the wall, like he'd just received a punch to the stomach. Stood unnaturally straight and stiff with smouldering eyes Emily looked just about ready to kill, or at very least to tear something to shreds. Aaron had never seen her as furious. But her rage was nothing compared to Derek's.

"Who the hell does Strauss think she is, ripping Reid away from us?" Derel bellowed like a wounded lion, so loudly that Penelope flinched slightly further. "That creep is still after him – he needs us! How the hell…?"

"Morgan." Aaron was surprised he managed to sound as firm as he did. Perhaps it was because he'd, at least, had a few hours to deal with this. He sighed heavily. "Reid… resigned – he left us out of his own free will. He told me he'd have to go, for everyone's sake. He also asked me to tell you that he's sorry, and you shouldn't worry."

The silence seemed to last a lifetime. "He thinks this way, he'll protect us." Emily's voice was quiet and tight, like a violin's string. The fire in her eyes gained a new, sharper edge.

They all shuddered a bit with surprise when Derek began to move with brash, unpredictable moves. "I'm going to go and talk some sense into that kid", the man announced in a low growl, his voice slightly less dangerous than before. The man's eyes carried so much that it seemed to overwhelm him. "We're supposed to be his family. We can't let him go through this alone."

"I'm going with you." Emily didn't sound any less determined when she finally got up from the seat to which she'd slumped. "There's… something I should tell him."

Penelope's mouth opened, but in the end she didn't manage to say a word. Instead she folded her arms and sighed soundlessly.

Aaron knew he should've tried to stop the two of them, that he should've told them they might be too late already. But he didn't, because deep in his gut he knew they were right. Spencer was in a lot of trouble and needed their help.

As he watched Emily and Derek go, he hoped from the bottom of his heart that they weren't too late.

* * *

Spencer had absolutely no idea how long he'd spent in the burning hot shower, futilely trying to scrub off the stains now refreshed memories had left somewhere underneath his skin. When he finally stepped out of the shower cabin he was shaking and panting slightly, like he'd been holding his breath the entire time water caressed his skin.

He was supposed to be safe, the entire team was supposed to be safe. So why did he feel Uncle John's hands on his skin even now, while he was wide awake?

Trying to shake off that thought, along with the intense nausea it caused, he dried himself, put on some clothes and made his way towards the bed. There was no use in attempting to eat anything, especially with how drowsy he felt, so he might as well try to sleep.

When he was only a couple of steps away from the bed he rather felt the presence than actually saw anything out of ordinary. It was like a icy hand had caressed his neck, sending a dark prediction all the way to his spine. Then he took another step, and couldn't keep himself from emitting a slight hiss of pain when sudden ache sped from his foot to the rest of his body. Moving rapidly, he took a look at the injured limb to assess the damage. All warmth disappeared from his body.

Right there on his foot, a shard of broken glass was sticking out. He operated slowly, feeling dizzy, while pulling out the glass and dropping it. It was around then he realized that there was more glass close by – it was a miracle he hadn't hurt himself sooner. Someone had smashed the huge mirror there'd been hanging on the wall to what looked like hundreds of pieces.

Spencer blinked, swallowing thickly.

How… had he not heard anything when he was in a shower? Was he really that out of it?

Suddenly there was a barely detectable sound that made chills go through him. There were steps. He was no longer alone in the apartment.

Spencer waited, with his breath caught into his throat and adrenaline filling his whole body with electricity.

And then he heard the sound again.

He reached out one hand towards the gun waiting for him on a tiny bedside table, but he wasn't fast enough. Just when his fingers brushed the metal of his weapon cold steel was pressed against the back of his skull, followed by a hissing voice. "I wouldn't want to kill you yet, but I won't hesitate if you turn out to be uncooperative. And then I'd go after that team of yours. Do you want to take the chance of not knowing what I'd be able to do to them?"

Spencer knew, on some rational level, that his team – family – consisted of well trained agents who were more than capable of taking care of themselves. And there was a chance that this attacker would hurt them in any case. But still, as he listened to the other man's hissing voice…

Was he really willing to risk them? To bet their lives?

"Think carefully – I already killed the guard stood outside the door."

Spencer swallowed thickly, realizing absently that his body was shaking. And then he made his decision.

He shook his head, and although his reason screamed against it pulled his hand further from his gun. He wouldn't have been fast enough to use his weapon, anyway, not with the barrel pressed against the back of his skull.

He could picture the chilling grin aimed his way. "Very good. I was counting on you being reasonable."

"I'm not going to let you hurt them", he half-hissed through grit teeth.

The attacker chuckled. "Are you trying to play tough with me?" Something sharp struck his neck, and he bit his lip to hold back a yelp when it stung like fire. "You remind me of a cockroach – you're just as annoyingly resilient. But no matter. I'll find a way to make you crack. I've spent years practising and preparing myself."

Spencer tried to respond but his mouth wasn't working properly anymore. His mind didn't seem to be working properly, either.

He wanted to fight back, to figure out how to get away from this. But his body had other ideas.

Despite his best resistance he slumped backwards, directly to the attacker's waiting arms. But he wasn't ready to give up yet. He was finally low enough to be able to reach the floor, and at that very moment his fingers brushed a shard of glass. No matter how cloudy his head already was he knew exactly what to do.

He took a firm hold of the glass and slashed backwards. His efforts were rewarded with a loud snarl. "Fucking damn it…!" He was thrown to the floor, with such force that he hit his head and lost a part of the little awareness he'd had. The man kicked him, hard enough to cause a sickening cracking sound, but he was too dazed to really feel anything but his body jerk. A taste of blood filled his mouth, making him shudder.

Spencer blinked slowly, the entire world spinning around him. His rapidly clouding eyes locked to the bloodied shard of glass on the floor.

It was the attacker's blood.

Liam's blood.

"Just go to sleep, Cody. Sleep", the attacker's husky voice whispered to him, already sounding blurry to his ears. "Rest. Because when you wake up the games will begin."

Spencer tried to fight with all his might, but in the end the pull of darkness was too strong. He fell, fell and fell until he didn't even remember to long for something to fall on.

The world around him crumbled and faded away.

* * *

TBC, right?

* * *

A/N: Oh man… (sighs) There's no place for poor Reid in the world of fanfiction, is there?

BUT, now… (glances around) How was the chapter in your book – any good, at all, worth the wait? **PLEASE**, leave me a note to let me hear from you! It'd seriously help this story grow and flourish. (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: Reid wakes up in his own personal hell, and demons of past come marching in. In the meantime the team – devastated over Reid's sudden departure – learns some more of Uncle John, and the connection between Reid- and Strauss families. Will they manage to find Reid before it's too late? The story continues in 'Full Circle'.

Until next time, folks! I'm got a pretty hectic next week (moving snatches at least a couple of days, and I have no idea how much I'll be able to spend on a computer), but I promise I'll update as fast as possible if you're still willing to read more.

Take care!

* * *

**ari**: Strauss finding out something like that does NOT sound good, does it? (winces) We'll see how this is all going to end…

I REALLY hope the next one turns out worth the all too long wait. (grins apologetically)

Massive thank yous for the review!  
-

**vetgirl1231**: First of all, thank you so much for the support – it really helped, enough to make this chapter see daylight! (hugs) And I'm so sorry that I've kept you waiting for so long, especially with that evil cliffie. (winces)

Let's hope they find and fnish off that creep, no? Because poor Reid would seriously deserve a happy life with no shadows of past haunting him. (sighs)

Protective Morgan is so cute, no? (grins) I went all goo with 'Amplification'. He's such a dear on his 'big brother' –mode.

HUGE thank yous for the review and supoort! I really hope you won't be disappointed with the newest one.


	7. Full Circle

A/N: GAH! I'm so, so sorry that's it's taken too long – AGAIN. (winces) But I've moved 200 kilometers from my former home, and there's been a ton of stuff slamming at me all at once, so I haven't been able to spend quality time writing. (pouts)

Thank you so much for those fantastic reviews! (HUGS) It means A LOT to know that you're still out there, ya know? This story would seriously go nowhere without you.

Awkay, because I've kept you waiting wayyyy too long as it is, let's get going. (gulps nervously) I really, REALLY hope this chapter turns out to be worth the wait.

To the beginning, a piece of lyrics to set the mood… (Ya know, I think this song fits this story pretty well.) (grins)

* * *

/ _To the praying Mother and the worried Father_  
_Let your children go_  
_If they come back_  
_They'll come home stronger_  
_And if they don't_  
_You'll know_

_They say that evil comes disguised_  
_Like a city of angels_  
_I'm walking towards the light_ /

(Good Charlotte: 'The River')

* * *

Full Circle

* * *

/ _The tiny, closed up well reminded Cody all too much of a tomb. And the time he spent there… To him it was eternity. At first he cried, clawed the walls, even attempted to scream for help. But no one came to save him._

_That was until one day turned everything upside down._

_Cody first opened his absolutely exhausted eyes when he __smelled smoke. In the well's darkness his heartbeat turned frantic when smoke began to spiral towards where he was squatted against the stone wall._

_There was no way he'd get out on his own, he realized in one moment of blind panic. If someone wouldn't pull him out he'd die._

_He was almost sure he heard Danny and Joshua screaming as well, and something close to banging found its way to his ears. It was around then he finally understood, and the panic from before seeped into every single one his cells._

_Uncle John… wasn't going to let any of them out, was he?_

_They were going to die. He was going to die._

_Tears streamed down Cody's cheeks while he began to shake uncontrollably. He coughed, feeling like his lungs had been on fire when smoke began to fill them. And just then he heard new voices, booming through the sounds of fire and the other two kids._

_Someone – it sounded like Joshua – _screamed_._

_"Hey, kid, it's okay!" a male voice assured. There was a cough. "We're here to help you, okay?"_

_Cody's heart jumped, so high that he feared it'd never take another proper beat._

_Someone… was there to help them? Was he dreaming?_

_There was such a loud crash that Cody's body shuddered violently, and he heard Danny and Joshua scream once more. Before his chaotic mind could come up with what was going on the metallic cover on the well was removed, and a man he couldn't see properly peered in with a flashlight. "Jesus…! Kid, are you okay down there?"_

_He nodded frantically, scared to death that the man might leave him. "Please." His voice was tiny and frail, filled with tears. Was he crying? "Please, help me! Please…" He broke into a fit of loud, painful coughs. He tried to scream, howl, but nothing but more coughing came out._

_There was a lot of shouting and loud noises that made him shiver, none of which he could really understand. Then, so suddenly that he jumped slightly, the voice spoke again. "Don't worry, okay? I'm coming down there. I'll get you out. Just hang in there."_

_Cody nodded, no longer able to form words. Tears ran down his cheeks while more and more smoke appeared, seeming to fill his entire body. It was already hard to breathe, and his eyes hurt._

_At that moment he was _sure_ there was no way they'd get to him in time._

_All of a sudden, after several eternities, stone hard arms wrapped around him. Cody had never felt such terror in his life. His mouth opened to soundless, breathless screams while his body began to trash violently under the force of adrenaline. He was fortunate enough to avoid detecting the stench of urine that soon creeped through smoke as terror took control over his body._

_Uncle John… Uncle John was back, wasn't he? Uncle John was back to kill him. This crushing hold… It was all too familiar._

_He kept fighting back, with al the pathetically little force there was in his tiny body, but he was no match against a grown man as he was held tightly and pulled upwards._

_The voices came to his ears through a wall of static. "God damnit…! This kid's hysterical. I don't know what the hell to do with him!" The hold around him grew even tighter as he was dropped to what felt like wood and he slumped against a huge chest. "Kid, calm down! You're gonna hurt yourself! Stop fighting!"_

_Wheezing sounds erupted through Cody's throat._

_Why should he stop fighting, when it was the only thing that kept him alive all this time?_

_Suddenly there was a new voice that sounded much more pleasant – safer – to Cody's ears. "Stop it! Don't you see he's upset? You're making things worse!" The stranger approached him with a warm, small smile on his face. "Hey there, kid. I'm not going to touch you, okay? I'm not going to hurt you. So calm down."_

_Cody first took in the man's police officer's uniform, then found himself staring into those eyes. And suddenly it felt easier to breathe although the amount of smoke kept increasing._

_Seeming to understand that he'd managed to get through to him, the officer went on. "I'm William Reid, from the police. The man who helped you up is Andrew Strauss – he's also from the police. We're here to get the three of you out. We're going to take you away from here."_

_Those words, said in that soothing, somehow familiar voice… They were all the reassurance Cody's battered body and mind needed._

_Cody had been strained to the extreme, sealed into this nightmare, for ages. All that time he'd been struggling for dear life. And at that moment, in front of that safe person, he was finally allowed to stop fighting._

_He closed his eyes and slumped further against the stranger although a part of him screamed against the decision. And instead of black everything turned into white._ /

* * *

Spencer woke up in a world of pain. It was _everywhere_ – his head and stomach were throbbing, and his chest seemed to be on fire. In the end a tiny, rather pitiable mew erupted through his bone dry lips.

"Well hello, and good morning." Liam's voice made cold seep everywhere into his aching body. Heavy steps approached him slowly, inevitably. "Try not to move too much. I wouldn't want you to pass out again now that you're finally with me."

Spencer frowned a little at that, his brain finally gaining some coherence.

How long had he been out? How far away had Liam taken him? Had the man hurt anyone else?

Slowly, a huge part of him resisting such a reckless decision, Spencer forced his impossibly heavy eyelids to inch halfway open, fighting to ignore how everything spun around him. What he found made the little warmth there'd been in his body slip away.

He was shirtless, which gave him the opportunity to see the dark bruises covering his side all too clearly. It was a good guess that some of his ribs were broken or at least bruised – that explained why breathing felt uncomfortable. But that wasn't the worst part.

The chair he'd been pushed into… It had some sort of metallic chains attached to it, and at the moment those chains trapped his wrists, ankles and legs. It took a dizzying moment of understanding before he realized that there were long spikes on the chains, which had bit hungrily through his skin. Blood covered his hands and feet.

Spencer blinked furiously and swallowed thickly, finally realizing why he'd been in so much pain before.

The spikes poked several major arteries. If he'd move too forcibly…

"I'd be careful if I were you. Those things are sharp, and I think I already scraped a vein or two when fastening them", Liam remarked. The man took a slow, long step closer and ran one finger on the chain trapping his right wrist. "Isn't it fascinating, how many weak spots there are on a human body? And we call ourselves the mightiest of all beings. Frankly, I think humans are absolutely pathetic."

Spencer blinked slowly, trying to control himself when another wave of dizziness attempted to sweep him under. Clearly whatever Liam had given him upon capturing him hadn't faded from his bloodstream completely. Once he felt a bit more coherent he dared to look upwards, towards Liam's face. A shudder crossed his ailing body.

Liam's red-dyed hair had been cut in a way that can only be called angry, and the man's entire aura radiated vehemence that could overflow any given moment. Every muscle in the man's sickly pale face was stiff with impatient anticipation, and those brown eyes looking back at him were pure venom. It felt like he'd been looking at a dangerous wild beast on the verge of a carefully planned attack.

This man definitely wasn't the little boy he'd met in the basement. But then again he wasn't Cody Jones anymore, either.

Spencer took a deep, evening breath, desperately attempting to keep his trail of thought clear. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to suffer for everything you stole from me." The answer came quickly, without an ounce of hesitation. Liam's eyes became even more dangerous than before, and the man's body began to shake. "You took away everything I had, destroyed the second life that'd been given to me. Because of you I lost the only person that has ever shown love and compassion towards me. I'm going to make sure you pay for that." And then, in a blink, the man's composure was regained. Liam gave him a smile that revealed a row of yellow teeth. "But first… I want to play a little game with you."

Spencer frowned, chills running through him. "A game?" he repeated, trying to buy himself a couple of more seconds to regain full clarity.

Liam nodded, some impatience forming lines to the man's forehead. "That's right." The man showed him a glass that was halfway filled with liquid that didn't look like water. "Drink this. Then the game can begin."

Spencer looked at the liquid, then lifted his gaze to meet Liam's eyes. "What is that?"

Without a warning Liam placed one finger to one of the spikes sneaking its way to his wrist, causing a stab of pain that made Spencer shudder. The man's voice was perfectly even. "Either you trust me or die right here. Which one do you choose?"

Spencer's head buzzed frantically as he weighed his options. It wasn't likely that Liam would kill him immediately – the man had been planning on this too long. But Liam wasn't stable enough for that judgement to be trusted blindly.

With that sullen thought Spencer nodded stiffly, and swallowed reluctantly when the liquid was poured into his mouth, burning on its way down. Chills ran through Spencer when a foreign, unpleasant taste he didn't manage to name filled his mouth.

Once he was done Liam gave him a chilling little smile. "There you go." Before he managed to react Liam had revealed a slice of black fabric and wrapped it so that his eyes were covered. "Now let's get started."

* * *

Even though the team had made a pact not to profile each other Emily amused herself sometimes with imagining what the homes of the other team members were like. For some reason she'd felt particular fascination towards imagining Spencer's apartment. That early morning, however, all her guesses didn't mean a thing.

Spencer… was gone. It wasn't the things, for they were mostly in place, but a spirit of sorts that had gone missing. It felt like the young genius had vanished entirely. Every apartment has the inhabitant's scent lingering there. She couldn't catch Spencer's.

It was almost like Spencer had never even been there, and the mere thought made Emily feel sick to her stomach.

She folded her arms to her chest in a protective manner, futilely attempting to shield herself against the dull ache rising in the pit of her chest.

She'd been supposed to tell him that he wasn't the only one bearing secrets. She'd been supposed to introduce him to the real her, just like he introduced her to Cody Jones. She was supposed to be fully honest with someone for the first time in her life. Now all she could do was hope that she hadn't lost that chance.

Loud swearing shook her out of those thoughts. Her eyes focusing to her right she found Derek stood there with a stormy look on his face. He was squeezing his cell phone so hard it was a miracle it didn't break. "I still couldn't reach him", the man spat out unnecessarily.

Emily nodded, for it appeared her mouth wasn't willing to function properly. Soon her restless eyes shifted again, towards where Aaron was talking on a phone with someone on the balcony. One of the usually stone faced unit chief's hands was squeezing the balcony's railing so hard that his knuckles had turned white.

Right about then David entered the room. The man's eyes carried a rather dangerous, sharp flicker. "I asked the neighbors, but they have no idea what's going on. Mrs. Willows, a lady who lives across the hallway, told me that the last time she saw Reid a man came to visit him and they left together."

Derek grit his teeth so hard that a nasty sound could be heard. "So basically we're stuck."

David nodded sharply, gritting his teeth in a similar manner.

Emily looked at the members of her team – _family_. And for the first time since this nightmare began she felt pure, naked fury.

Someone was after their youngest. She wanted to see that son of a bitch _suffer_.

Adrenaline strained her instincts to their extreme. That's why she stiffened upon hearing steps long before a very masculine voice spoke. "I visited the office, but Erin Strauss adviced me to come here." Peering over her shoulder she saw the same man they'd met at the hospital what felt like a lifetime ago. There was a strained look on his all too serious face.

In an instant Derek's eyes narrowed. "And we're supposed to trust you?"

"He's alright, Morgan." There was a unreadable look on Aaron's face when to man entered from the balcony. The unit chief and the stranger eyed each other with a great deal of suspicion. "I just got a call from Strauss. She asked us to come back to the office, with him."

The stranger nodded, his face never easing. "I think that under the circumstances, it's time for me to introduce myself. I'm agent Ray Holloway from the witness protection program – I've been in charge over Cody Jones' case since he was six years old. I came here because whatever my superiors say, I need your help." The man's eyes darted between them. "Cody's been taken. He vanished from a safehouse and the guard who was supposed to protect him was murdered. It looks like Liam found him."

Whatever breath Emily had had before faded away, and her knees went so weak that for a moment she was sure she'd fall down. It felt like she'd been punched to her stomach, and the rest of the team didn't look any less shocked.

How the hell was this possible?

Aaron was the first one of them to recover enough to speak. "Who's Liam?"

Ray appeared between irritated and defeated. "So I have to take this from a scratch with you?" The man sighed. "Let's go to your office. Once we're there I'll explain everything."

The team fought the urge to snort.

What choice did they have?

Upon leaving none of them noticed the letter Spencer had left for the team as a sigh of air made it float to the floor.

* * *

Spencer was fairly sure the drink Liam had given him was a huge reason to why he lost all sense of direction as the other man led him forward through drafty, stone floored hallways that felt far more narrow than he would've liked. The journey seemed to last a lifetime before Liam suddenly pulled him to a stop so abruptly that he came close to losing his balance. He felt the other man move exactly five seconds before there was a painfully loud, screeching sound when a rusty door was forced to open.

"Enter." It was said in a foreign voice, and if he hadn't known it impossible Spencer would've imagined it wasn't Liam talking. When he refused to move at first a harsh, impatient thrust sent him forward. This time he stumbled to his knees when the last of his poor balance broke. "You need to walk through this house, that's all. I'll be keeping an eye on you all the way, so I wouldn't suggest foul play. After all, I do know where the members of your team live – including sweet Jennifer and your adorable godson."

Spencer fought to keep his breathing even when a chillingly familiar smell of dust and blood made its way to his nose. "You won't have to get anyone else involved."

"Good boy." A hand brushed his face, making him shiver. "But before starting this little game, remember this…" The hand continued its way to his blindfold. "You may have survived Uncle John… But you haven't seen _me_ even getting started." With those words the blindfold was removed, exposing his eyes to a agonizingly bright light that made him hiss with pain and cover his eyes. He barely noticed the sounds of door being opened, then closed and locked coming from behind him.

It seemed to take forever until the light was switched off, and even longer before his eyes adjusted enough to be able to see properly. The sight greeting Spencer hit him with the force of a sledgehammer.

The room around him… It was dusty and almost dark with its filthy windows covered, but he did recognize it all too well. It was Uncle John's basement.

He was back in Uncle John's house. The nightmare had begun all over again.

It wasn't until several moments later Spencer realized that his breathing pattern had changed dramatically, his gasps turning into such rapid ones that caused a wheezing sound. It took all he had to regain at least some control over himself. His body shook so hard that it difficult to stand up.

He'd changed his name, abandoned the life he once had… And now he was back here.

"_I want to finish you off in the place where it all began, once upon a time._" Liam's voice seemed to echo everywhere. There was a second's pause. "_Do leave the basement now – the hatch isn't locked, and I'm fairly sure you don't want to spend your last hours there._"

Spencer frowned, his cloudy head finally finding something to grasp on. "Last hours?"

"_Tick tock, Cody._"

Leaving the room was something Spencer wanted to do very much. So, without wasting a second, he gathered his all and made his way to the all too familiar stairs with unexpected effort. Wood moaned and hissed under his feet as he climbed upwards, as though telling him that he was a unwanted intruder in the hellhole.

Once Spencer actually reached the hatch he experienced the same fear Cody felt a long time ago, his hand shaking pitiably while hesitating to reach out towards the handle. And then he took a firm hold, hoping and praying that he wasn't making a fatal mistake.

* * *

In a conference room the atmosphere was stiff with impatience and filled with mistrust as the team half-glared at Ray, who was clearly having great difficulties with deciding where to start. It didn't make things any better that Erin Strauss was also there. Somehow her presence was rarely a sign of good news.

In the end Aaron decided to cut the chase. "This team is a family, agent Holloway. And as it is one of our own is in a lot of trouble. Don't make me treat you like a hostile witness."

"I suppose I should start from the beginning." Ray took a deep breath before starting. "The man who kidnapped Cody when he was a child was Dr. John Waldon. He was a deeply disturbed man who owned a farm in the most deserted corner of Philadelphia. The first time his parents contacted the police was when his sister Christina accused him of harassing her. At the time John was eight, Christina was six. According to the documents I've found there was no hard evidence, so the matter was dropped, but the family was never the same. A year later John ended up into a group home and grew up to become a pediatrician. He probably would've never been caught if he hadn't murdered his ex brother in law and aroused the suspicion of police." The man grit his teeth, appearing nauseated. "He managed to kidnap fifteen boys at the age of five and six before he was caught. Cody Jones was one of them. Waldon managed to catch him when his mother had a particularly bad… episode, and his father fell on drinking. They divorced three months before Cody was found. Cody's father killed himself exactly fifteen days before they got their son back."

"Last time I checked William Reid is still very much alive", David remarked with a touch of confusion in his voice.

Ray frowned. "William Reid? Cody's biological father was Kenneth Jones."

The team could only stare. It was amusing, really, that in the middle of such a nightmarish tale something like that managed to shock them.

"The day Cody was found only four of those children were alive." They were all stunned to hear Erin speak. There was a somewhat sad look on her face. "Waldon set the house on fire and ran just before the police got there. It was a matter of minutes before all the children would've been lost. Waldon took one of the kids with him upon escaping."

Derek frowned. "How do you know this?"

Erin sighed, rubbing her face with one hand. "Because one of the police men who found the children was my father. I heard him talking about those boys to my mother sometimes – it was one of those cases that never stopped haunting him." She waited for a moment, a far away look appearing to her eyes. "Another one of the officers was his partner, William Reid. No one knew Cody's mother had an affair with William before the three of them vanished together after Cody had been found. Waldon was still at large, so the mother and son changed their names and the three of them started a life in Las Vegas." She looked at them, appearing even more serious than before. "Knowing Re… Cody's genetic history, things could've gone a lot worse. He was lucky to have adults around him who helped him survive."

Ray sighed, his shoulders slumping. "The other three… weren't so lucky. Danny was institutionalized for almost all his life until he was murdered not too long ago. And I'm sure you all remember what happened to Joshua Martel."

That sent another shockwave through the team. Spencer… had known their UnSub, such who'd killed several children, and never told them. Why hadn't he told them something so important? Was he really that scared of them knowing the truth?

"There was a fourth child – the one Waldon took." It was no surprise that Aaron was the first one to regain his ability to speak. The man's sharp, demanding eyes were locked on Ray. "What happened to him?"

Ray's jaw tightened for a moment. "His name is Liam Dwight. Waldon kidnapped him when he was barely five. It wasn't that hard of a job – his drug addict mother died months after his birth, and his father wasn't much of a parent. There were rumors of violent abuse and neglect. According to the information we have Liam watched Waldon kill his father." There was a moment's pause. "After Waldon was killed and Liam was finally free the child was thrown into a turmoil of foster homes and correctional facilities. He was too vicious, manipulative and violent to adjust anywhere – in one incident he stuck a pen into a fellow foster child's eye during a fight. In the end Liam was sent into a asylum. He was there for three years until he managed to talk himself into being discharged. After that he disappeared from every radar, until recently. We've managed to connect him to a string violent incidents." Ray's eyes darkened. "We have a reason to suspect that he murdered Danny. And not too long ago he killed one of our agents, Mandy Christensen. Before that he managed to blackmail her into giving him the address of Cody's safehouse."

It was deadly silent, apart from Derek's loud, dangerous breathing. The man's eyes smouldered. "How the hell is it possible that someone that sick is walking out there, hunting people?" the man hissed through tightly grit teeth.

Ray gave them a bitter, tiny lopsided smile. "The wonders of our fine world, huh?"

"We're wasting time." They were all surprised to hear how usually cool and composed Emily's voice shivered with impatience. There was a inferno in her eyes. "We've gotta get Reid away from Liam, fast. Do your people have any leads, at all?"

Ray's eyes flickered with curiosity and clear admiration as he glanced towards Emily. He opened his mouth but never got the chance to speak before there was a knock on the room's door.

"Yes?" Aaron barked out.

The building's security guard – a young latino man named Mendez – peered in. The man didn't seem quite sure of what he was doing. "There's… a woman looking for agent Holloway – she said she'd been instructed from the previous place to come here. She says she has important information on Uncle John's case. She wants to help you."

Ray frowned with one of his hands slipping instinctively to where his gun was most likely held. "What's her name?"

The guard seemed even more unsure than before. "Lisa Ephram."

Ray shook his head, the frown from before deepening. "I don't see how anyone with that name could have anything to do with this case."

"I had a feeling you'd say that." The unfamiliar female voice had every agent in the room tensed up. In a moment a woman in her early fifties with incredibly bright, green eyes and long cherrywood colored hair peered in. She appeared pale and wary, and her hand shook when she pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "I changed my name, a lifetime ago." She swallowed thickly. "My birthname is Christina Waldon. I'm John Waldon's sister."

* * *

Spencer's head spun from adrenaline, shock and something he couldn't name yet as he stood in a familiar hallway that'd been terribly abused by years. He could've sworn he heard Uncle John's voice and felt the man's touch when he stumbled one step forward, unsure and unwilling to proceed in the barely existent light. Flashes of unwanted memories gave his head stab like slashes of intense pain.

Uncle John's voice was just as clear as it was that day. / _"If you're a good boy today you'll get a special reward. Just stay quiet and do as you're told."_ /

/ _"John? Chrissy called – she's worried about you, and wanted me to come and see you. Are you…?"_ / That man's eyes… They were so full of shock. /_ "Fuck, John…! What the hell have you done?"_ / To a five-year-old that gunshot was deafeningly loud.

Spencer's eyes narrowed while he balled his trembling fists, firmly attempting to tune out the whispers from a life he didn't wish to remember while his gaze darted around. There were three doors, one on the left side of the hallway and two on the right. Which one should he choose? What was behind them?

He'd been in those rooms. Why couldn't he remember when he would've needed it the most?

Suddenly what looked like moonlight seeped in through a tiny hole on the wall, falling on the door on the left side of the hallway. That was when Spencer saw the pattern drawn there with something that looked like a sickening mixture of silver and blood.

A full, neverending circle.

He took one step, then froze. His eyes fell downwards and a chill crossed his being.

A wire, most definitely that of a trap. Spencer didn't want to even guess what it might've triggered if he'd touched it.

A frosty chuckle echoed in the confined space. "_Very good. I can tell FBI's done you good. But I hope you understand that the surprises aren't over yet._"

Of that Spencer was much too sure while he stepped carefully over the wire, then continued towards the door. He couldn't understand the nagging sensation of threat in the back of his skull until he was only a step away from his destination.

As it turned out one of the small wooden pieces of floor before the door gave way. Spencer's eyes widened when there was a soft 'click' as something was set off.

* * *

TBC, no?

* * *

A/N: (shudders) Oh boy… Things seriously aren't looking up, are they?

But hey, **some good** (?) **news** for change! I've gome to some decisions when it comes to this story. After this one there'll be two or three more chapters plus an epilogue. And I've got a quite firm structure for them built in my head, along with some more time to write – which means the updates would start coming out more regularly. (That is if I manage to keep my damn head together enough to write…) Do you guys want to read them?

**PLEASE, **leave a review to let me know! By now you've gotta now how much hearing from you would mean to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

IN THE NEXT ONE: The team is introduced to the most likely only person who can help them, and tensions run high as guilt and frustration take over. Will they find Reid before it's too late? Because the games continue in Uncle John's house, and Reid's life hangs in a balance…

Until next time – I really hope I'll be seeing ya all around!

Peace out!

* * *

**ari**: Heh, I always update – eventually. (winces) I can't believe how long it takes sometimes!

The poor thing, no? (sighs) Let's hope he manages to survive this one more round of hell.

Super sized thank yous for the review! I REALLY hope the next chapter meets your expectations.

* * *

**vetgirl1231**: (beams) You can't even imagine how relieved I am to hear that. The updates have taken WAY too long lately, so it means the world to me that the story's still worth all the waiting.

And damn, it'd be so good to see that guy get what he deserves from Morgan, wouldn't it? (sighs dreamily)

Colossal thank yous for the review!

ps: Awww! Thank you so much for the bunny – it's absolutely adorable! (hugs) I really needed one.


	8. Hourglass

A/N: This story will go on hiatus. (dodges thrown object) Okay, okay, just kidding! That was a bad, cruel joke. But seriously, the new chapter is already here! (grins) This time I didn't make you guys wait for weeks. (gives a sheepish expression) BUT, first…

Huge thank yous for those amazing reviews! (glomps) They really do mean to world to me, ya know, especially when it comes to keeping my inspiration alive. So thank you!

Awkay. (takes a deep breath) So here we go. I really hope you'll enjoy the ride

* * *

Hourglass

* * *

/ _The first thing Cody heard while waking up was a beeping sound that irritated his already throbbing head. He moaned, unable to understand what was going on._

_Was he still in Uncle John's house? Those men… Did they get him out? Was he safe?_

_He moved his hand to wipe away the moisture that seemed to linger on his cheeks, but never got that far before he felt a tug and a slight snap of pain. A shudder of wild panic rushed through him, going all the way to the tips of his toes._

_What was going on?_

_Suddenly there was a painfully sharp, screeching sound as a chair was moved. Cody almost panicked again until he heard a familiar voice he'd missed beyond everything. "Cody, honey? Are you awake?"_

_It'd been such a long time from when Cody last heard his mother's voice that it took several moments before he believed that he wasn't dreaming this time around. Slowly, with much effort and fear, the child forced his eyes halfway open. At first the figure sitting beside him was blurry, but in a while he could see his mother's eyes clearly._

_For a moment Cody lost his breath when a wave of elation and breathtaking relief rushed through him. He blinked rapidly when his eyes stung, scared to death that she might disappear if his sight went blurry. "Mommy?" His voice was frail, most definitely that of a exhausted, horrified child's. For some reason Cody began to shake violently._

_There were tears and something he couldn't name in his mother's eyes when she brushed his cheek with a gentle, almost careful hand. "Hey, sweetie. It's good to see those pretty eyes of yours – you've been sleeping for three days." Her voice broke slightly, which he fortunately didn't notice at the time. She swallowed thickly. __"I… __I know you've been through a lot. But you're safe now, I promise. William is going to make sure you're safe."_

_Cody was too young, tired and distraught for those words to confuse him. He gulped although his throat was painfully dry and fought as hard as he could against tears. "I wanna go home, mommy." It was nothing but a whisper, so quiet it was a miracle she heard._

_A tiny sob left his mother and her smile faltered slightly. She visibly debated for the longest time whether she should've hugged him or not. It disappointed him that she didn't – her hugs had always made him feel better. "I know you do, sweetie. And I will take you home, as long as the doctor says it's okay." She brushed his cheek again, and for some reason the touch stung. "But before that you need to get some more sleep. When you wake up I'll give you the biggest bowl of ice cream you've ever seen. How does that sound?"_

_Cody nodded. And somehow he managed to smile just a little bit although it hurt everywhere._

_His mother was there – there was no reason to keep fighting anymore. That's why Cody dared to close his eyes and relax as far as ache allowed him to._

_Cody was already almost asleep when he heard something that could've as well been a dream. There was a tiny sound his groggy mind miraculously identified as a sob. "I'm so sorry, Cody", his mother whispered in a barely audible, broken voice._

_Cody couldn't understand. His mother hadn't done anything wrong – why should she apologize? She shouldn't be crying because of him._

_He didn't want to hear her cry ever again._

_With that thought he drifted away. Cody Jones never woke up - Spencer Reid did._

* * *

_When Diane Jones left her son's hospital room William Reid was stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall where she'd left him almost five hours earlier. It was around then she came to discover that her body had done all the hanging on it could._

_William barely had the time to catch her when her knees buckled, sending her towards the hard floor. Her fingers squeezed his shirt convulsively while he held her up and close to him._

_He smelled and felt nothing like Kenneth Jones. And to her that was as close to bliss as she could get under the circumstances._

_It took a tiny eternity before William spoke in quiet, somewhat uncertain tone. "Just focus on breathing", he adviced in a soft voice that sounded nothing like the person he was on duty. A large, oddly soft hand caressed her hair. "Just breathe through it."_

_"That son of a bitch raped my son, beat him and threw him into a well", Diane hissed, her voice filled with venom. There was such burning in her veins that she feared it'd drive her to insanity. But then again, would someone already labelled insane know the difference? She grit her teeth so hard that the taste of blood filled her mouth. "I want to tear that asshole to shreds – I want to scratch his eyes out."_

_William tightened his hold on her, as though afraid she might disappear. It took a moment or two before he spoke quietly. "I swear we'll catch him, Diane. I know it's asking you too much, but we'll just have to be patient for a bit longer."_

_Diane grit her teeth again but didn't say anything, unwilling to unleash all her venom on someone who didn't deserve it._

_So she was supposed to be patient when Waldon was out there and her son was still trapped into the hell that monster created? Even the thought brought a bitter taste to her mouth that wouldn't fade with any amount of medication._

_A sudden, all too familiar voice made them break their embrace. "Reid, we should get going." There was no misreading the look in Andrew Strauss' eyes. The man had seen a lot more than he should've. "We've got a lead calling."_

_Diane wanted to ask more than anything, so badly that her tongue burned. But in the end she squeezed her lips to a thin, tight line. She even kept herself from squeezing William's hand when he gave her a polite nod and left. Instead she turned on her heels and headed to her son's room, where she was needed._

_For the time being she and William were able to resist the temptation of looking back._ /

* * *

Derek's head _hurt_ when he stared at the box before him.

As Ray had told them Liam had sent the box to Spencer, and its contents had put the genius into a hospital. Although Derek hated himself for the thought he couldn't help admitting that the box was very, very skilled artwork. The wood was dark and the careful lines on it told that it'd been handled with love. It took a while before Derek caught the mechanism. There was a barely visible, extremely delicate and nearly transparent wire that tensed up when the box was open. When triggered the wire made a hasty tug, unleashing the box's nasty secret. The box had sealed in altogether fifteen extremely sharp needles that, in Derek's opion, should've belonged to some ninja-movie. All the needles were there, covered in long ago dried blood.

Derek had seen a lot – too much for most – in his life. But the sight of Spencer's blood made his stomach shift violently and sent a stinging sensation to his eyes.

He found himself waiting for someone to wake him up from this nightmare. When no one did his gaze shifted firmly towards the note that was attached to the box, written in Spanish. There was also a translation, made by someone in Ray's team, and Derek's eyes drank in the words although they were the last thing he wanted to see. The nausea in the pit of his stomach began to boil with such rage that stole his breath away.

'_It was a tough task to find you, Cody._

_Unless you want to die already, duck._

_I'll see you very soon._'

At that very moment he decided that once he'd get his hands on the asshole who brought this hell on Spencer he'd skin the psycho alive.

It was a small miracle that Ray's words made it through to him. The man's voice aroused another, undeserved bout of rage within Derek. He knew Aaron has assigned him to examine the box, along with some other clues, just because he was too unstable to do anything else. But if the unit chief wanted to keep him from punching someone putting him into the same tiny room with Ray wasn't a good idea. "I know that this is the last thing you want to hear, but Cody is very lucky to be alive." Ray took a deep breath, suddenly appearing several years older than before. "If one of those needles would've strayed even an inch he would've died right there and then. Liam even had the courtesy to call an ambulance."

Derek's fists shook as he balled them, red swimming in his line of vision. "The son of a bitch didn't want him to die then." It took absolutely all he had, but in the end his profiler's instincts kicked in. They had to, for Spencer's sake. He grit his teeth and took a deep breath before speaking in a suspiciously tight voice. "The guy's been practising a lot. Creating something like this must've required several attempts."

Ray nodded. "The information we have is vague, but it looks like Liam studied woodwork in one correctional facility." The man's eyes darkened. "All those years he prepared himself for going after Cody."

At that moment Derek couldn't hold himself back any longer – he'd bit his tongue too long. "It's Spencer."

Ray blinked twice, looking at him with clear confusion. "Huh?"

"It's _Spencer_." This time Derek's voice was even sharper than before. He looked away from the other man, letting his eyes wander when he couldn't find anything he would've wanted to focus his gaze on. "He's not Cody anymore – he told me so himself. So call him Spencer, okay?"

Ray looked at him for a while, then nodded slowly. There was a hint of understanding in the man's eyes. "Okay."

After that they worked in a somewhat companionable silence, both trying to ignore just how little difference their efforts were worth.

Staring a box wasn't going to buy Spencer another second. And time was what their youngest would've needed.

* * *

After the 'click' Spencer had time for exactly one blink before the floor literally disappeared from under his feet. His voice fading away completely he opened his mouth and unleashed a wheezing breath before dark emptiness swallowed him up in whole. Pure, naked terror caught a hold of his body.

It was a terrifying thing, to fall without knowing exactly where he'd land – or if he'd ever land at all.

And then, before Spencer managed to prepare himself for it, he crashed into a wall of pain, hitting his head painfully on the way. His ability to produce sounds came rushing back when he felt something impaling his shoulder. It took absolutely all he had not to pass out under the crushing wave of searing pain that followed.

For a long, half-dazed moment Spencer lay absolutely still, afraid of what any movement might trigger. Then he braced himself and turned his gaze slowly to see just how much damage had been done. It was far darker than he would've liked, but he nonetheless shuddered at the little he managed to distinguish.

There was a piece of wood, firmly bolted to the floor, that at the moment ran directly through his shoulder. Spencer suspected grimly that all the warm, sticky substance around the injury was blood. His brain immediately spat out information on what all could possibly be damaged, on what the long-term consequences might be.

Spencer didn't care about long-term consequences, though. As it was he couldn't think of his life further from making it out of this hellhole. That thought helped him make the necessary decision although he didn't like it.

He got up, slowly and carefully – but not carefully enough. A strangled mew of agony escaped him when his tormented flesh punished him for his hasty decision with a slash of unimaginable pain. Somehow, although he was still on the edge of collapsing, he managed to notice that the wound was barely bleeding at all. Perhaps his body was still in a shock.

Breathing, on the other hand, had become surprisingly hard. His head spun while he tried to block out the darkness around him and focused on taking deep, even breaths. Every single inhale wheezed, and it felt like there was a elephant sitting on top of his ribcage. His head also throbbed like someone had been ripping his skull apart, and no matter how hard he tried to fight it a tiny whimper slipped through his lips.

What the hell was going on? Had he really hurt himself this badly during the fall?

"_Trust me on this, Cody. Sitting around won't make you feel any better this time. In fact I'd urge you to hurry._" He shivered when hearing Liam's voice. In the middle of all the pain he'd pushed the man into the back of his mind. "_You don't have to sit in the dark. There's a flashlight directly in front of you. Take a look around._"

Eager to chase away the shadows that were dancing hungrily around him Spencer fumbled around until his fingers met what felt like a flashlight. He took it gratefully and in a couple of seconds managed to switch it on. In about another couple of seconds he wondered for the first time in his life if darkness would've been a better option.

Everywhere on the tiny, circle-shaped room's floor were remnants of human bodies that were at the moment nothing but skeletons. Skeletons of small children.

"_The police never found the bodies of those pathetic, weak ones Uncle John put out of their misery._" Liam sounded chillingly calm, almost serene, like he'd been speaking of a field of flowers. "_See? They're all here, every single one of them – except for Danny and Joshua, of course. And soon you'll join them._"

Spencer could only stare, shock striking him blissfully numb.

Those bodies, _children_ – shot, stabbed, beaten to a point where most of their bones were broken, strangled so hard that their windpipes had been crushed… When Spencer looked at them he couldn't avoid seeing flashes of those children he'd met, in another life. Although he was a profiler he couldn't help looking at them through Cody's eyes.

He and Liam… They were the last survivals. All these children, they'd…

Spencer swallowed thickly, struggling with his all to control the steadily swelling nausea. "This… Liam, this is madness. You have to understand that." His voice was frail but he hoped the other man heard anyway. He licked his lips, his body beginning to shake uncontrollably. "These… These children didn't deserve to die. They didn't do anything to deserve any of this – and neither did we. You need to know that."

For a torturously long moment it was silent while Spencer remained utterly still in the darkness, his breath wheezing and his body continuing to shake. When Liam spoke there wasn't a trace of emotion in the man's voice. "_Look at that third body on the right – the one that has a bullet hole in the back of the skull. There's something in its mouth I want you to have._"

Approaching the skeleton wasn't something Spencer wanted to do, but at the moment he didn't really have any other option. So, bracing himself with steely determination, he pushed himself up to his oddly shaky feet and began to make his way towards the skeleton. Once he reached his destination Spencer froze, memories washing over him in a icy flood.

He knew exactly who this child was, because he'd never stop seeing those fearful, confused eyes in his nightmares. He'd never managed to forget the sound of Oliver's voice. / _"What's… going on?"_ / Nor was he able to forget the sight of Oliver's blood spreading to the ground. Blood that'd been spilled because of him.

Gritting his teeth as hard as he possibly could Spencer took a gentle, almost tender hold on the skeleton's jawbone and pulled. He blinked when seeing a strange, oval shaped object that bathed in the color of blood. The item was attached to a yet another wire.

"_Now there's a question._" Liam sounded amused. "_Is pulling that thing going to kill you, or save you? I'd suggest you find out fast, because time keeps ticking._"

Looking at the object Cody realized that he didn't have the luxory of choosing. He took a deep breath that made him feel even dizzier than he already had, then took a firm hold of the item and pulled. The object was unfastened, laid softly on his hand. And then there was a rather loud, screeching sound that made Spencer stiffen instinctively before he glanced quickly to side, his wide eyes wild with something beyond panic.

A door had opened to his right, revealing a view to stone stairs.

Spencer hesitated for about ten seconds before his feet made the decision for him. He began to walk forward, wondering if he was heading towards his death or something much worse.

* * *

When it became clear that she'd end up committing a severe crime if she'd stay in the headquarters any longer, Emily decided to catch some fresh air. Once more she found herself from Spencer's apartment.

She stood in the middle of the living room with her fists balled and her eyes darting around restlessly. It bothered her, that she couldn't feel Spencer's presence. If she had maybe she'd known what the hell she was doing

Spencer had always been the member of the team who had the most life in him, who seemed to live and hold on to life with every single cell of his body. How could someone so alive just disappear like a ghost? How could he just be stolen away this way? Emily's brain just couldn't comprehend that.

Suddenly her anxious eyes spotted something on the floor she'd almost stepped on. It was a envelope. '_To the team_', had been written on top of it in Spencer's now unusually shaky handwriting.

Emily swallowed thickly, a rotten taste rising to her mouth.

It was a farewell letter, a voice in the back of her head told her. Upon leaving Spencer had known that there was a great chance he'd never come back. He'd prepared himself for the fact that he might not get the chance to say goodbye.

Emily had always been a tough person – fate had molded her that way. But at the moment that single letter made something inside her shatter to pieces. And it _hurt_.

She barely heard her cell phone when it began to ring, and it took awfully long before she was even close to coherent enough to answer. Her voice held a barely detectable shiver when she finally picked up. "Yeah?"

"_You should come to the office._" Penelope's voice had never been as tense as it was at that very moment, not even during the Hankel-nightmare. "_I… __I think I just found something. Take your go bag with you._"

Emily felt a shock wave of electricity go through her entire body. "It's already in my car. Thanks." With that she hung up.

Before leaving she stared at Spencer's letter for exactly three seconds before folding it carefully to her pocket.

She couldn't read it yet because it was meant for the entire team. Besides she didn't even have to, because soon she'd hear his voice again.

She had to. Anything else was unthinkable.

* * *

Spencer noticed, with a great deal of unease, that he had to lean on a wall for support as he made his way up the stairs, fighting furiously to keep his mind alert in case of traps. And then, so suddenly that he shuddered with surprise, the stairs ended to a slightly ajar, visibly heavy wooden door. Some light seeped from the room to the pitch black hallway, luring him like a siren. He responded eagerly and opened the door although his mind screamed at him that he was most likely walking directly into a trap. He blinked twice when entering.

There were no traps or wires. The only items in the room were a small lamp on the roof and a hourglass that'd been left to the floor. Sand kept slipping downwards constantly, and for some reason watching it made him feel inhumanly cold all over.

"_Look at that hourglass, Cody._" There was a edge in Liam's voice that made his skin crawl. "_It shows you exactly how little time you have left. Because when the last drop of sand falls, the poison in your body makes your heart give up on you. At the moment I'd say you have two and a half hours left._"

Spencer felt like someone had shot him straigth to his stomach, and the little breath there'd been in him vanished. The nausea from before returned and intensified tenfold.

But Liam wasn't finished. "_However, I'm being a lot more gracious than you'd deserve – I'm giving you a chance to choose. Do you see the loose brick just before the hourglass? I want you to pull it off._" Most likely seeing his expression through a camera the man went on. "_Stop looking so mistrusting. I swear it's safe._"

Working as carefully as he possibly could Spencer followed the instructions. Once the brick was removed he could see three wooden switches. He frowned. "What's this?"

"_Another round of the game._" There was a small, torturous pause. "_Two of those trigger a trap, one a door to safety. This time I'm leaving your fate into your very own hands._"

Spencer stared at the switches, knowing all too well how many times luck had already turned its back on him. But he had to try, no matter how little he liked it. His fingers shook when he pulled the left switch.

The 'snap' that followed sounded as loud as a gunshot in the completely silent room. And then the deafening screeching began.

Liam emitted a sound that sent chills all the way to his spine. "_That was a very, very bad decision, Cody._"

His eyes and whole body filling with such terror Cody recognized easily Spencer glanced towards both of his sides. It took only a second before he realized that the walls were approaching him.

The walls were closing in on him. And there was nowhere to run.

* * *

Aaron felt like there'd been tiny needles everywhere inside him when he watched through the glass how David spoke with Christina Waldon. The talk had been going on longer than he would've liked, and every trace of her brother's past felt like a kick in the gut.

The stories of how Waldon harassed her, stalked her and tormented her when they were children sounded too surreal – horrendous – to be true. Waldon was careful not to leave any marks on her body, but it was clear the scars inside her went deep.

Christina left home as soon as she was old enough, moved to England and never looked back – at least until she heard that little boys had started disappearing in Philadelphia. It was she who led the police towards her brother's direction. Unfortunately, for the children in the basement it was too late.

It was too late for Cody and Liam.

"Our parents died in a car crash when I was twenty. I never went to their funeral, but John… He never left the farm. It was his whole life." It wasn't until she wiped her eyes Aaron noticed the tears. "If… If I'd known, about those boys…" Her voice, frail from the start, faded away.

"Why did you come to us now?" David inquired, clearly fighting to keep his voice as even and calm as possible under the current pressure.

The silence lasted a lifetime. "When he was nineteen, Cody… He wrote me a letter. Told me who he is, what has been going on in his life… I have no idea how he found me, but… Since then I've received a letter every three months." Christina's breathing sounded shaky. "But this time… This time the letter didn't come. I knew right away." There was a distant look in Christina's eyes while she stared at a unidentifiable spot. "I haven't told my kids or even my second husband about my past. I know I should've, but…" She swallowed with visible difficulty, glancing briefly towards David before looking away again. "Just… Just find Cody, please. Because… I failed him back then, both him and Liam – if I'd stood up against my brother, none of this might've happened. So save them, because…" She blinked furiously. "Because I want to believe that I made it in time this time around."

David looked at her, clearly wanting desperately to lie. "We'll try", was what the man settled with in the end, his voice thick and hoarse.

Christina nodded and said nothing.

David looked at the glass, and although the man couldn't see him they exchanged looks.

This wasn't getting them anywhere. Christina was willing to pour out her heart and soul, to open the most painful of her scars, but none of that was enough.

Aaron's body jolted, mostly because of adrenaline overdose, when his cell phone came to life in his pocket. He picked up in a flash when noticing that the caller was Penelope. "Did you find out anything?"

"_Yeah._" Penelope's voice shuddered with storming emotions. "_You were right. Waldon's farm… It was never sold – no one wanted to buy it. It's still deserted in the middle of nowhere._" She spoke so fast that he had hard time understanding, and in the end she sounded out of breath. "_Reid… Liam must've taken him there._"

For some reason Aaron's head spun slightly as he nodded, knowing full well that there was no way Penelope could see the gesture. "We'll go to Philadelphia as soon as possible. Make sure the jet is ready."

"_Already done._"

"Thank you." He grit his teeth, then unleashed the breath he hadn't caught himself holding. "Dave is here with me – I'll let him know. Call the others. We'll take off in twenty-five minutes."

"_Turn around._"

Frowning Aaron did as he'd been told. And despite everything that was going on the sight that greeted him made him feel slightly warmer.

Not too far away stood the rest of the team, including Penelope, with their go bags ready and stern, stiff looks on their faces. They looked like they'd been preparing themselves for a war.

Aaron sighed. "Garcia…"

Penelope shook her head fiercely. "I'm not staying behind. Not this time."

For the first time in what felt like ages Aaron felt the urge to smile. "I know", he replied in a atypically soft voice. His features then stiffened once more when the full gravity of the situation crashed down on him. "Now let's go. There's no telling how much time we have left."

None of them said a word, not even as they took off ten minutes later.

The race against time had began.

* * *

TBC, right?

* * *

IN CASE YOU'RE WONDERING… Two things in this chapter have been mentioned before in this story; the box Reid once received (in chapter 3, a tiny bit in 4), and Oliver whom Uncle John killed as a punishment for Cody (in chapter 5). 'Just thought I should mention so you won't get confused.

RANDOM FACT: According to the information I have a direct flight from Quantico to Philadelphia takes about an hour, so there's hope, but… (shudders) Dang, the team better hurry up!

A/N: Sooooo… (glances nervously) The tension keeps building up, but was the chapter any good, at all? **PLEASE**, leave a review and let me know! Aww, c'mon, by now you've gotta know how much hearing from you guys means to me. (gives puppy's eyes)

I've been sitting in front of my computer so long that my eyes are getting sore, so I've gotta tune out. But before that…

IN THE NEXT ONE: The team makes it to Philadelphia, but are they already too late? The desperate race against time gets a dramatic ending.

By the way… The next chapter is already on a operating table. So, keep my inspiration fueled and it'll be out of OR in a flash. (grins cheekily) This one _will_ make it off the table, too. (Geez! I still can't believe that line in the series…)

**ONLY TWO CHAPTERS AND A EPILOGUE LEFT, FOLKS!**

Until next time, guys! I really, really hope you'll all join in then.

Take care!

* * *

**ari**: I truly am a sadist with those cliffies. (winces) But at least the new chapter didn't take weeks to appear. (grins sheepishly)

HUGE thank yous for the review! I really hope this one turns out worth the wait.

* * *

**vetgirl1231**: You can't even imagine how happy such praises made me! (beams, and hugs) It means the world to me that you're so into the story. I hope you'll stay that way for the last few chapters.

But gosh, poor Reid, no? Nightmare after nightmare. (winces) Let's hope that in the end he gets the happy ending he deserves.

Massive thank yous for the review!

ps: (beams) I ADORE those bunnies – that one, too, is so cute I wish I could hug it! And hey, it's clear they help. Look how fast this update came. (grins)


	9. Going Under

A/N: Guess what? Another speedy update – woo-hoo? (And this time I'm not going to torture you with cruel jokes, either.) My life's been in quite a turmoil lately, which seems to transform into a obsessive need to write. (grins sheepishly)

Thank you so much for those fantastic reviews! (GLOMPS) They DO mean a lot to me, ya know? So thank you!

Awkay, because I don't think you're hear for my babbling… Let's go! (swallows) I really hope you'll enjoy the ride.

* * *

Going Under

* * *

/ _The first time Cody woke up in the hospital was just the beginning of a long, excruciating path to recovery._

_It was mere hours from when Cody woke up to when he wet his bed for the first time in three years as a result of a nightmare. Since then those nightmares – filled with Uncle John, darkness and flames – became his constant companion. During the worst of nights he woke up almost ten times, sweating, screaming from the depths of his soul and crying hysterically. After the worst of episodes it took several hours and a adult's dosage of sedatives to calm him down so that he wouldn't accidentally harm himself. And he didn't trust men, at all. The police men who tried to interview him, male doctors and nurses… He wouldn't let any of them touch him, and when he was left alone with them into the same room he became so terrified and distressed that eventually a medical professional had to interfere. The only man who didn't scare him senseless was William Reid. Once, when he was extremely tired and his mother had left the hospital for a few hours to get some rest, Cody even let William hug him after a particularly vivid nightmare. Touching in general was a huge problem for Cody, which made treating him extremely difficult. Even his shoulder being petted by a nurse sent him hyperventilating. Most of the time Cody was in his hospital room with all possible lights on, with his mother reading to him. The news that Cody's biological father was dead only added weight to the troubled boy's tiny shoulders._

_Cody Jones was a extremely challenging, traumatized patient. But his child-like-side managed to charm absolutely every member of staff that met him. That's why there was a somewhat melancholic aura in the ward when it was announced that Cody was about to leave – where and how he'd be treated from thereon, was never revealed._

_On that day a agent named Ray Holloway came to meet Cody and his mother. As far as it's possible to explain such things to a child – to even someone as incredibly intelligent as Cody – Ray told the boy that because Uncle John hadn't been arrested yet the boy would go to some place safe. When the child began to panic the man hurried to add that both his mother and William Reid would be coming along. Cody would get to go to Las Vegas. He'd get to start a brand new life._

_Cody Jones turned officially into Spencer Reid while Diane Jones became Diana Reid. And for the first time since Uncle John he smiled like the six-year-old he was._

_Two days later Spencer blinked sluggishly when his mother touched his cheek gently to wake him up. She smiled at him when he looked at her with some confusion. "Take a look outside, sweetie", she half-whispered._

_Blinking once more Cody yawned, only then noticing that he wasn't on a plane anymore, instead he was resting against his mother on the backseat of a car. Curiosity taking a hold of him he peered through the car's window and felt his eyes grow wide._

_All those lights and enormous buildings… Was he even on planet earth anymore?_

_William, who was driving, gave the boy a smile-filled look through a rearview mirror. __"So, kid… What's the verdict? Does this place look okay to you?"_

_"Yeah", he whispered, looking at all the unfamiliar surroundings and people their car passed by. Cody Jones didn't exist here. To him that was the closest thing to a heaven he could imagine. He stiffled a yawn while leaning further against his mother's familiar warmth. Was it those pills that doctor had subscribed that made him feel so tired? That's what the doctor told his mother. "I… think I'll like it here."_

_It was fortunate that he was much too young to understand that it was never quite that easy to chase away monsters._ /

* * *

Spencer had felt terror before. But this – having walls closing in on him – aroused something far beyond that. His heart thumped so madly that it was almost impossible to breathe while his frantic eyes darted on the walls in a mad search for salvation.

"_Do you see what it feels like, to have absolutely everything crash down on you?_" Liam sounded dangerously calm. "_That's what I felt like when Uncle John died. I want you to understand that feeling._"

Without a warning a scarlet red slash of rage joined the electric course of panic in Spencer's brain, and his eyes narrowed. He _did_ know that feeling already – he didn't need another lesson.

He'd faced several precious people walking out of his life.

He'd been forced to send his own mother into a asylum.

He'd been forced to deal with Dilaudid.

He'd been tortured, shot at, beaten, battered, poisoned, violated.

He'd almost died, several times.

He was still alive and standing, fighting for deal life.

Just then his adrenaline-sharpened eyes caught something on the room's furthest wall, the one that wasn't rushing towards him.

There was a oval shaped hole, exactly the size of the bizarre object he'd taken from the skeleton's mouth.

He began to move, fighting to ignore how it was becoming more difficult as his body started to bend under the will of the poison Liam had mentioned before. Cold sweat lingered everywhere on his skin and his heartbeat kept speeding up when he finally reached the wall, realizing that two other walls were only arm's length away.

This had to work, or the poison in his veins would turn out to be the least of his problems.

His fingers shook while he took the ovel shaped item from his pocket, then placed it quite clumsily to the small hole on the wall. For three seconds that stretched to eternity nothing happened. But then there was a deafeningly loud screeching sound and the walls came to audibly reluctant halt.

Only sheer willpower kept Spencer from slumping to his knees when relief washed over him in a crushing wave. Somewhat absent-mindedly he noticed that his whole body was shivering uncontrollably.

Liam's chuckle echoed everywhere. "_Well you sure are a clever little thing. I was sort of hoping you'd wiggle your way out of that mess. It would've been disappointing if our time together had ended already. You see, I have some more plans for you._"

Spencer swallowed thickly and blinked several times, trying to keep his trail of thought clear despite the fact that he felt like suffocating – it was like he'd climbed to a mountain that was too high for his physical condition to handle. Once more his mind darted around in an attempt to figure out where he should go next. He didn't really like the idea of finding out what Liam had in store for him next, but he knew that if he'd stay still he was as good as dead. It was a 'lose or lose' situation, really, in which he could only attempt to do some damage control.

He was racing against that damn hourglass he'd seen before. He just hoped he wasn't fighting a lost battle.

Suddenly there was a sharp, 'click' like sound that made cold shivers strike his spine. Looking rapidly to the wall far behind him he saw that two small lamps he hadn't noticed before now provided light to the nearly dark space.

"_Let there be light._" And then came a rather suspicious, rattling sound before two pieces of the stone wall moved to side, revealing two equally dark hallways. "_Now… You did a very poor job last time, but I'm giving you another shot at choosing. What can I say? I'm getting soft over the years, I guess._" He could practically feel a shuddering wave of Liam's irritation and impatience when he remained still. "_You really should move now, Cody. The hourglass won't wait._"

Spencer hated even the thought of facing another certain trap, but as it was his hands were tied. And so he walked forward, keeping one hand on the wall beside him when dizziness washed over him. He debuted for a while before choosing the right door.

"_Hmm, interesting. It looks like this is going to be a lot of fun, after all._"

Spencer didn't dignify the man with a response, and in full truth he doubted he'd even been able to speak when breathing was enough of trouble. Instead he focused on navigating his way through the shadows, trying to trick his mind away from how miserably dark it was around him.

* * *

In a small room not too far away Liam's sharp, hazardous eyes observed from a tiny screen how his prisoner proceeded slowly.

The poison was already taking affect, it was easy to see that. The time was almost at hand…

That thought became cut by the annoyingly sharp dial tone of his disposable cell phone. He unleashed a animalistic, brief growl before picking up. "What?"

"_I just thought I should let you know… The team is on its way – they're already at the station. You should hurry up._"

Another growl, even more feral than the last one, became unleashed. Liam's hold on the cell phone became so tight that the item was almost broken. He had _not_ wanted to finish things off this fast after all the long years of waiting, but he knew when he had no options. "Hmph. I should get to work, then." Then, as an afterthought, he decided to add. "Make yourself useful and lay low, why don't you? I'm sure you understand what I'd do if you'd get me into a trouble." So saying he hung up.

Liam's predator's eyes lingered on visibly tensed up Spencer for a long moment until he decided that he couldn't waste another second.

It was time to get as much fun out of all this as possible.

With that thought he left the room.

* * *

In the hallway Spencer frowned at a sudden sensation.

He… could smell smoke, burned wood. Apparently he was getting to the parts of the building that'd been destroyed or damaged badly by the fire Uncle John started years ago.

Without a warning a chilling breeze of cold air came in and seemed to wrap around him, making him shiver. The wind seemed to snarl in the old building's drafty corners. In Spencer's current state of mind and condition, it sounded like ghosts of the past had been howling at him.

Darkness seemed to swallow him as he walked on, wondering why it felt like he'd been heading towards his doom.

And then the hallway ended to clearly burned doorframes that paved the path to a smallish room that'd suffered the same fate. Absolutely everything inside Spencer froze when he recognized the room, and his breathing pattern turned into such that almost struck him unconscious. His stomach kept twisting and turning until he was _sure_ he'd throw up.

Uncle John's bedroom. Liam wanted him into Uncle John's bedroom – to the place where…

Not bearing to finish that thought he swallowed, only then noticing the horrible taste in his mouth. Once more he was _shaking _as he defied all the screams of his reason and stepped right into Cody's worst nightmare.

It wasn't until he'd taken two steps into the room Spencer realized that he wasn't alone. On the other side of the badly burned space stood Liam with a unreadable expression on his face.

All of a sudden time seemed to disappear.

* * *

The team's arrival to Philadelphia wasn't exactly smooth. Exactly four minutes and fifty seconds after they landed a police vehicle forced them to pull over almost right outside the airport. A young male police officer who looked like a much less pleasant version of Spencer informed them that they were to follow him to the station immediately. Wasting time on what sounded like ridiculous bureaucracy was the last thing they wanted, but the choice was out of their hands.

The second they entered the station everyone's eyes were on them. It didn't take a profiler to understand that this attention wasn't pleasant one.

"'Twilight zone'", Rossi muttered instantly, shifting his weight restlessly to other leg.

And just then one of the office doors opened. Out came a extremely pale, about fifty years old bald man with smouldering dark eyes. "You're with BAU, no?" The voice was sharper than any blade, filled with threat. The man folded his arms. "I'm Jonathan Vargas, the captain of this district. I was warned you'd come."

A series of frowns was aroused by that comment.

Aaron stepped forward instantly. "I'm Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner. We're here because one of our agents has been taken, and we have a reason to believe he's held captive here." His tone was clipped, cut all chitchatting. "I don't understand why we were ordered here."

Jonathan's expression turned dark and unreadable before the man spoke after a moment of silence. "Come to my office. There's something I want to show you."

The team exchanged looks before doing as ordered.

Once they made their way to Jonathan's surprisingly small office the man didn't spare a glance towards the mountains of papers and files that lay absolutely everywhere, instead marched straigth to his computer. "This was delivered to us a while ago. It sneaked into every computer in this station, so that we all saw it."

The team inched closer to the computer so that they could see properly. Chills ran down their spines and Penelope emitted a choked sound at what they saw.

There was a video clip playing on the computer screen that had the screen divided in two. The other half showed a visibly injured Spencer, making his way through a dark hallway that was clearly filled with traps. The second half showed five children who were calling out for help and crying hysterically, locked into what looked like a huge metallic box. There were two girls and three boys, none of them older than seven. They seemed absolutely terrified while crying out for their parents, praying someone to help them. And then the text started rolling.

'_If I see any of you here, they'll all die. Do you see those tiny filters on all four sides of the box? How long do you think it'll take before a box of that size fills with gas? I'm sure you have an expert who can enlighten you._

_Also… BAU is coming to Philadelphia – that man is a FBI-agent and one of their own, you see. Let any of them find me, and you'll never see those children again. He has very little time left – watch him die, and the game is over. Once he's out of the game, I'll let the children go unharmed._

_The choice is yours._

_Whose life weighs the most?_'

"Oh… my god…", Penelope choked out barely audibly.

Jonathan's expression was grim as the man looked at them. "Those children are all sons and daughters of my officers. There's no way I'd be able to make any of them set a foot there. And I'm not about to let any of you go there, either. I'm not going to sacrifice the lives of children."

There was a inferno in Derek's eyes. "So, you just… let Reid die?" The man's voice shook dangerously. "You expect us to watch him die, not doing a thing?"

Jonathan sighed, rubbing his face with one huge hand. "I'm sorry for your friend, I truly am. But…" The man swallowed thickly. "I… I lost my own son, and… I'm not going to let any of my men and women go through the same if there's anything I can do to stop it. Those children… I'm not about to cause their deaths, no matter what I have to do to stop it." Jonathan looked at them with nearly desperate eyes. "Think about that agent of yours. If he had any idea of those kids… Do you honestly think he'd want them to die in his place, either?"

Grim silence filled the room.

* * *

Spencer swallowed although his mouth felt unhealthily dry as he stood absolutely still, staring at Liam. The profiler side of his brain ticked furiously, trying to figure out what the other man's next move might be. All he could come up with was white noise.

Liam wasn't someone anyone could read plausibly enough for it to be trustworthy.

Liam tilted his head to side, looking at him with eyes that gleemed in the room's light. Spencer knew that it was just a trick of his imagination but he could've sworn he saw a flicker of red amongst brown. "So… You made it this far." Liam's voice carried a edge he hadn't heard before. And that dangerous look on the man's face… "It would've been interesting to see if you would've made it all the way outside, but I'm afraid we're about to get some company. That team of yours was faster than I expected." There was bitter acid in the man's voice – he didn't like being wrong, it seemed.

"You're not going to make it out of this alive." Spencer was amazed by how calm he managed to sound. Perhaps his body had grown so tired of panic and distress that his emotions shut down. "They'll never stop haunting you."

Liam shook his head, appearing just as calm. "It doesn't matter. Don't you understand, Cody?" The man approached him until there was only millimetres between their faces. Spencer squirmed with discomfort when the other man's warmth and mint-scented breath lurked into his private space. Liam's eyes were locked directly at his – or perhaps Cody's. To Liam that ruthless battle of survival from their childhood days was far from over. "_You_ are all that matters. Only you."

Spencer got the first warning when there was a silvery flash. A microsecond later a knife was pressed so tightly against his Adam's apple that he didn't dare to even swallow. The following five seconds felt like eternity to him. And then Liam threw the knife directly at the wall behind them, the flash in the man's eyes looking exactly like that of the knife's.

Spencer took a brief, hasty breath until he felt something on his throat once more. Liam's fingers. The man's voice sounded so much like Uncle John's that it made him feel sick to his stomach. "He always taught me that the weak must be eliminated. The weak are worth nothing – nothing but blade, fists and bullets. And he never lied." The man's eyes examined him, and he didn't dare to even guess what they saw. "That little boy… He's still inside you – he has a hold on you and you're not strong enough to make him let go. He's still keeping you chained."

Spencer didn't say anything, only kept his eyes trained on his counterpart in an attempt to see a flash of what was to come.

Liam's eyes narrowed for the briefest of moments before the man spoke. "Let me ask you a question, Cody… You've been a agent for a long time. Have you ever killed anyone?"

Spencer nodded stiffly. The response tasted sour, almost rotten, in his mouth. He spat it out as fast as he could. "Yes."

Liam seemed fascinated by his answer. There was open curiosity in the man's eyes, and suddenly the fingers pressed his throat a little bit harder. "Have you ever looked at their eyes, just before they die? There's a look in there, that tells every single one of their secrets. It's those eyes, death's eyes, that define who we really are – they don't lie. Uncle John taught me that." Once more the man tilted his head. "I wonder what your eyes will look like when your heart stops beating."

At that very moment Spencer saw the flash he'd been anticipating. But it appeared a blink too late for him.

Oddly enough, the first thing Spencer felt was warmth around his stomach area, followed by a blow of dizziness that almost swept him off his feet. It wasn't until he swayed slightly towards Liam the pain came, with such a punch that he cried out breathlessly. That was when he finally came to think of looking down. His whole body convulsed once under the power of what he found.

There… was a knife, dangerously close to his stomach area. A knife Liam's hand had struck until only the haft was visible.

He was too dazed to notice properly how Liam leaned right next to his ear, then whispered. "This is what it feels like to have life struck out of you. It gnaws your insides, makes your blood boil and pool out. This is what it feels like to die." Spencer convulsed again and emitted a soundless cry of utter agony when the knife was twisted once. "This is what you did to me, the day you killed Uncle John."

* * *

Valuable moments slipped through the team's fingers as they were forced to stay in the police station, under what felt like a million watchfull eyes. All the weight of the situation, their frustration and bottled up rage sat on Penelope's shoulders as she kept working on a computer with all of them waiting impatiently.

"Do you have anything yet?" Derek demanded.

Penelope emitted a sound that was far from patient. "I don't, just like I didn't have ten seconds ago. If I find anything I'll tell you, okay?" Noticing her tone she sighed, her shoulders slumping. There was a huge amount of moisture in her eyes. "I'm sorry, but… This would be hell a lot easier if there was less at stake, you know?"

Emily attempted to smile but failed miserably as she lay a hand to the blonde's shoulder for a fleeting second.

About a minute later Derek stopped his aimless, restless pacing and headed towards the room's door. "If the watchdogs ask, I'm in the toilet", the man announced in a sharp tone, then left the room before any of them got the chance to say a word.

Aaron knew exactly what Derek had in mind. But he also knew that they were running out of time. And that's why all he could do was hope that he hadn't made a terrible mistake.

He squeezed his mouth tightly shut and said nothing.

They all tensed up when the room's door opened once more – and blinked slowly upon seeing the person who entered. "It's good to see a familiar face", David managed.

Special agent Jill Morris didn't appear as pleased. "I just caught a glimpse of one of your agents – Morgan, wasn't he? It didn't look like he was going towards the toilet."

That comment made the room's temperature drop several degrees.

"And if he had headed somewhere else…?" David was bold enough to voice eventually, leaving the ending open.

Jill sighed, her facial muscles tightening. "Not everyone here remembers how much your team, including Dr. Reid, did for us during the Andrews case. But I do." (1) The smile on her face was barely visible. "Vargas won't find out, until this is all over at least. But I really hope you know what you're doing – it's my career in line here."

Aaron nodded, giving her a soundless 'thank you'. And somehow further response wasn't even needed.

It was so quiet for almost a minute that they all tensed up when Penelope emitted a high-pitched sound. "I found it!" her voice shook with excitement and her eyes were wide when she stared at the screen. "I've got the location of the box. I know where those children are."

"I'll send a team there right now", Jill announced immediately, then gave them a look that carried a lot of sympathy. "You go and save Reid. I think Morgan is going to need your help."

Giving her grateful looks the team hurried out of the room – all except for one.

Although all his instincts were pulling him elsewhere David lingered behind, his eyes on Jill. "Thank you, for this." He barely recognized his own voice, but at the moment it failed to matter to him.

Jill shrugged, giving him a smile. "Maybe this means that my values are not what they were before, huh?"

David couldn't resist a smile of his own. For a couple of seconds his hand lingered less than an inch from hers, twitching with anticipation. Then he made his decision and headed out of the room without looking over his shoulder. And even as he walked away from her, somehow he felt warmer than he had in days.

* * *

Spencer knew disturbingly lot about the effects of injuries to abdominal area. That's why he was all too aware of how small his chances of survival were when Liam dragged him towards a unknown location. Or well, he was as aware as possible in his condition. Keeping his eyes open, breathing and dealing with the mindnumbing pain that battered his body took such a toll on him that he didn't even manage to care where he was being taken. It was a huge possibility that he imagined most of what was going on around him.

They were… in a forest, it seemed. In a very dark forest where wind and shadows twirled around them as though inviting them to a dance. They walked forward for what felt like a decade until Liam stopped, so suddenly that Spencer almost slumped to the ground.

Liam gave him a tiny, wicked grin. "So here we are, Cody. Everything is finally coming to an end now."

Spencer blinked tiredly, already halfway unconscious, then let his gaze fall downwards. In a flash he wished he'd never looked.

There was a box that seemed to be made of thick glass, placed inside the ground so that only its lid was above ground. The box was completely filled with water.

Spencer shook his head feebly, the small gesture proving to be almost more than his head could take. "No." It was barely even a whisper. He wasn't entirely sure why his eyes started to blur all of a sudden. "Don't…" Spencer was barely lucid enough to comprehend what was going on, but he did know that if he'd fall now there was no way he'd be able to get back up again. And that's why he ushered his utterly exhausted body to a one more battle.

With all the strength still left in him he took a almost convulsive hold of the thin, army green fabric of Liam's shirt, holding on for the sake of his life.

Liam obviously didn't appreciate his efforts. The man's eyes narrowed, this time like those of a attacking wild beast's. Something savage flashed in the depths of those brown pools. "This ends _now_, Cody. Right now."

Spencer didn't know what hit his fingers, but the surge of searing pain pulled a tiny whimper from him.

And then his hold broke.

As he fell Spencer could've sworn he heard someone yell out his name in a distance. But it was probably just Cody, still struggling somewhere in the back of his head.

Then he hit the ice cold water and nothing made sense anymore. Blades, a million of them, assaulted his flesh and despite the fact that it was almost frozen the water _burned_ when he ended up swallowing it. He was on fire and freezing to death at the same time, standing in a shower of a hundred shards of glass. Spencer couldn't come up with any physical experience that would've hurt more.

He screamed into the water, only managing to get more icy flames into his barely functioning lungs, and banged the walls of his cascet until absolutely all of him became utterly numb.

And suddenly, not feeling anything didn't sound like such a bad idea.

Darkness swept him under, soon turning into blinding white.

* * *

There was no reason in Derek's head as he stormed towards the half burned barn, his veins pumping heat and adrenaline through his body. He'd thrown all caution to the wind the second he took the car and sped off with the tires roaring protests. To him there was no UnSub, no traps, no potentially lurking dangers.

The only thing that existed at the moment was the firm, all consuming thought that he was _not_ going to lose his best friend – the only little brother he'd ever have – today.

And then he heard something most would've probably ignored altogether, thinking it couldn't be anything but a trick of imagination.

There was a whimper, one he recognized all too well from the Hankel-nightmare.

When his eyes flashed Derek was already on his way, speeding towards the woods with the speed of all his adrenaline.

He kept running until his feet decided to make decisions for him and he halted, so abruptly that it required all his balance to remain upright. His eyes narrowed to hazardous slits while the hair in the back of his neck stood up.

Someone was there, very close.

Before he could move a muscle his guess was confirmed. "There's a gun pointed directly at your head. I don't want to shoot you, so stay very, very still. There's nothing I'd want of you." The voice was smoother than silk but dangerous.

Derek's eyes blazed and his fists squeezed into irony balls. "What the hell have you done to Reid?" he snarled through tightly grit teeth.

He heard a shrug. "I simply made some old things right, regained a closure. The rest is hardly any of your business."

A shudder crossed Derek. He'd have to get to Spencer, _fast_.

His body stiffened, which Liam caught immediately. "Didn't I tell you not to move?" The man clicked his tongue. "You don't take orders very well, do you?"

"If you've hurt him…", Derek hissed, shaking with such wrath he didn't remember experiencing ever before. "… I'm going to skin you alive, do you hear me?"

Liam scoffed. "Is getting back at me really your top priority? Because if that's the case…" The was a step, and no matter how hard he tried Derek couldn't tell if it was taken towards him or away from him. "It doesn't sound like you have backup – which, by the way, was a incredibly stupid move. So, I'm afraid you'll have to choose. Which one do you try to catch in time; me, or Cody?" There was a second's pause. "I'd suggest you make up your mind quickly. Or how long, exactly, do you think Cody can hold his breath?"

Derek's eyes first widened as a frosty breeze of terror caught a hold of him, then squinted. "You son of a bitch…!" He spun around – too late.

Liam was already gone, like a trick of his imagination. The forest behind him was empty.

For two precious seconds Derek shook with suffocating frustration, then decided that he'd wasted enough time. He'd never ran as fast in his life, not even when his knee was still in top shape. "Reid!" he hollered into the shadows. Only wind answered him. His chest constricted until it was painful to breathe. "Spencer, can you hear me? Where are you?"

And then, just as suddenly as earlier, he froze, the blood in his veins turning into ice. His body became completely cold and numb.

There was a recently dug grave, right before him.

Derek wasted several valuable seconds with standing there until his body finally screamed at him to move. At that moment of sheer terror all reason vanished from his head. Everything turned into a chaotic blur.

He dashed to the grave, then clawed into dirt until his fingers hit something solid. The new sensation only added his determination and he kept digging until his fingers were black and brown with dirt. That was when he was hit by another blow of shock.

Practically inside the ground was a glass made coffin that'd been filled with water – and Spencer was inside it, so lifeless that it nearly stilled his heart. The water was pink with blood.

Later Derek only remembered banging the infuriatingly thick glass with bare fists to a point where his knuckles bled and he was almost sure bone had been fractured. He also remembered screaming at the top of his lungs – screaming at Spencer, screaming for help although he knew no one was there to hear him. Shouting out loud for a damn miracle.

Suddenly, so unexpectedly that he emitted a yelp he would've been embarrassed by in any other situation, the glass first cracked, then broke entirely. Razor sharp shards of glass flew everywhere and floated in the icy water. Working faster than his reason could assist him Derek took a firm hold of Spencer and pulled the genius out of his watery grave, but overestimated his strength. Derek snarled when his tormented hands and arms gave out, sending them to the forest floor so that he stumbled next to Spencer.

Despite all the hassle Spencer was still unresponsive, lifeless.

Derek shook his head while his eyes stung and blurred. "No!" he snarled at anyone who would listen – perhaps to some deity high up above. "No, hell no!"

Ignoring his own bruises he fell to his knees beside Spencer and chose to ignore how his fingers shook as he brought them to the genius' freezing cold, deathly pale neck. It took all his self control to keep tears at bay when he felt a barely existent beat.

Spencer… Spencer was still alive. There was still hope.

"Morgan!" Instinctively his gaze shifted to Spencer's still unconscious face until he realized that the voice belonged to Aaron. In a flash the man was kneeling beside him, his usually stony dark eyes filled with naked fear as they bore into his.

Derek responded the unvoiced question with a nod, unable to produce speech. A tremendous shiver of relief could be seen on the unit chief's face.

David's voice came so suddenly that they both shivered. "We couldn't find a trace of Liam – he's probably…" Words got caught into the older agent's throat when the sight greeted him. Derek had never seen the kind of a expression on the man's face that appeared just then.

And then came Emily. At first she stared, as though not quite managing to believe her eyes. But when it all crashed down on the brunette her eyes filled with a crushing amount of anguish and her lips opened to a soundless cry.

Suddenly the forest felt even darker, colder and more miserable than it had before.

"Morgan." Derek was relieved when he heard Aaron's voice. Direct orders – he needed such to be able to function. There was a blaze in the unit chief's eyes. "Take Reid to a hospital. It's faster than waiting for a ambulance."

"I'll go along." Emily's voice was tighter than a violin's string, and her eyes left no room for objections. "There's no way you'll be able to drive alone." They could all tell that wasn't the only reason, but they had the decency not to mention it.

Aaron nodded, his features gaining at least ten more years of age. "Dave and I will join you as soon as we're done here. Now get going."

Derek had no desire to protest. He fought the urge to groan as he lifted Spencer into his arms and realized just how light the genius was, even with wet clothes.

When this was all over with he'd make damn sure Spencer would start eating properly. He told himself that there'd be a chance for that.

There had to be.

A minute and thirty seconds later only that thought kept him sane as he pulled Spencer's still limp, all too cold body slightly closer to him and dived into the car. He and Emily didn't speak while she kicked the car's gas pedal as hard as she could, pushing the vehicle to its extreme. In some other situation he might've noticed how her lips moved as she prayed for the first time in ages.

He was doing the very same thing.

The fifteen minutes of driving they had ahead seemed like decades. And their youngest didn't have a second to waste.

* * *

TBC, for a bit more, no?

* * *

A/N: (gulps thickly) Something tell me that you're after my head right about now. So… I'm out of here, folks.

BUT, first, of course… **PLEASE**, leave a review to let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Take it this way… I'm nice to you and gave a couple of quick updates because you guys were fantastic enough to review; keep scratching my back, and I'll scratch yours. Quid pro quo, as they say. (grins wickedly)

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER: While Reid fights for his dear life Uncle John's fate is finally revealed. Time slips away fast – and nothing prepares the team for what's to come.

Until next time, everyone! I REALLY hope you'll stick around for that.

Peace out!

* * *

**pottyandweezlbe89**: He is, isn't he? (winces)

HUGE thank yous for the review!

* * *

**cmsp**: (sighs with delight) I'm so flattered to hear that!

Thank goodness they finally got a lead, no? Now let's hope they hurry up, because it looks like time's running out. (winces) Liam's quite a sadist, no? (shudders)

No worries – the letter WILL be revealed in the next chapter after this new one. (grins cheekily)

(chuckles) You know, I thought of Reid and – bang! Cody Jones came floating in. I couldn't even imagine another name. (rolls eyes at oneself) Don't ask – there's no explaining the workings of my mind. BUT, I'm thrilled to hear you like the name all the same.

Colossal thank yous for the review! I REALLY hope the rest will please you as much.

* * *

**ari**: She's such a sweetheart, no? (hugs) Must be excrusiating to be the one left behind every time. (sighs)

Let's hope they find Reid! It's be quite a heartbreaking end of it all if they didn't.

Monumental thank yous for the review!

* * *

**vetgirl1231**: (grins) Lots up cute bunnies means a fast update, hun. GOSH – I'll never grow tired of those things!

And you give me bunnies, despite the inhuman cliffie. (grins sheepishly)

Let's hope the team gets to him. I don't think they'd survive the blow of losing their youngest. (winces)

MASSIVE thank yous for the review and bunnies! (hugs)


	10. When the Last Grain Falls

A/N: (grins) You know, this chapter was born so fast that it baffled me! Somehow it'd already written itself in my head before I sat before my laptop. Cool! (rubs hands together with a great deal of excitement)

BUT, first of course… HUGE thank yous for those reviews you guys left! You have no idea how you've made my inspiration flow. (HUGS) So thank you!

Awkay… (inhales sharply, and fidgets with nervousness) I'm not sure what to think of a chapter that was born in a flash, so let's get to the business before I choose against posting it. I REALLY hope you'll have a good ride!

* * *

When the Last Grain Falls

* * *

/ _Settling to his new life wasn't easy for Spencer. All the vivid, horrifying nightmares that tormented him almost every night made sure that he was always pale and drowsy during daytime. And those fears he knew to be irrational… It was tricky to go through a average day when darkness, strangers, men, physical contact and loud noises were able to send him into a panic attack. He might've been able to shed the name Uncle John used, but getting rid of those scars was much more difficult. The other children in school didn't make it any easier._

_The day his math teacher – a kind man named Heath Rogers who'd never harm anyone – gave him a pat on the shoulder for a job well done he wet his pants out of terror. That appeared to be the most hilarious thing the other students had ever seen. Spencer didn't show up to school in two days, but of course there was no running away from the inevitable. That math class was only just the beginning for a several years long row of insults, pain and humiliation. Spencer was utterly grateful for the books. No matter how bad things got he could always escape into their world. And his science teacher – a thirty-years-old woman with long blond hair and blue eyes named Susan Kingston – was always kind to him. She didn't ridiculate him when he cried to her shoulder after his head had been pushed into a toilet. She didn't admonish him even when he had a full blown panic attack and she had to carry him into the teacher's office, then hold him for three hours before he finally calmed down enough to become functional. She told him he was the kindest and the most intelligent little boy she'd ever met. She was the first woman he had a crush on, before he even knew what a crush was. She was also one of the few reasons why he survived school._

_But time, as it turned out, was able to do miracles. Little by little, step by hard and exhausting step, Spencer did heal from Cody's wounds. The nightmares became less intense, less detailed. He managed to rationalize some of his fears to a extend where he was able to push them into a far corner of his mind. He was able to smile, feel happiness, breathe freely. In time he was also able to accept William Reid's permanent presence, and the changes he saw in the relationship between the man and his mother. William started sleeping in his mother's bedroom when he was seven. The first time Spencer called the man 'dad' – albeit accidentally and in a school assignment – was just after he turned eight. Cody's name was never mentioned._

_Spencer Reid turned seven, eight, nine, eventually ten. Uncle John didn't reappear._

_Everything was as close to perfection as possible, until one day of very early winter when William was momentarily out of town to take care of some things._

_Spencer had been sleeping poorly to begin with because nightmares had been haunting him all night long, waking him up screaming several times. That's why he was wide awake in a split second when the door of his room opened almost soundlessly._

_Spencer swallowed thickly, his pupils shrinking bramatically. "M… Mom?" he whispered, although he knew she couldn't be the person who just came in. The scent was different, those steps approaching his bed were too heavy._

_"Trust me, Cody", Uncle John's all too familiar voice – the one that'd been haunting him in countless nightmares – half-whispered in a hazardous tone. "It's just you and me."_

_Before Spencer could move or emit another sound there was a weight on him, such that seemed to crush his ribcage. Uncle John was all over him, taking over all of him. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't move a muscle. The second the man's hand touched him absolutely all will faded from his muscles. In the end he was hauled up and hurled against a closet._

_Uncle John ran a finger on his jaw, making him tremble uncontrollably. "You ungrateful little piece of filth tried to run away from me – you tried to send me behind bars. I'm sure you understand that I can't let something like that go unpunished."_

_Spencer's – or no, definitely Cody's – lips opened, but his throat wouldn't produce the slightest sound. Tears ran down his cheeks in two warm rivers while the large man pulled out a blade that was covered in long ago dried blood._

_The blade felt ice cold while it was trailed down his cheek, towards his still parted lips. "I should cut these off, really – I should slice that tongue of yours into little pieces." The metal was pressed harder, until it scraped his skin. "But if I'm perfectly honest… There's something else I'd want your tongue to do first."_

_Inside Spencer Cody screamed while Uncle John's hand touched something he knew no adult should've ever laid a hand on. He felt filthy, pathetic and violated, and would've given just about anything if he would've been able to erase at least his mind from the situation._

_In the end his survival mechanism activated, with such force that it struck him breathless. His voice still refused to work but he clawed, struggled, even attempted to kick. But although he wasn't as small as he was back then he was also no match against a grown man. When Uncle John slipped through his defence and the touches became more aggressive he balled his fists and emitted a whimper-like noise that didn't sound like anything human._

_This wasn't a nightmare – this was all real, all happening to him. That thought seemed to crush him under its weight. The scream that wanted to erupt balled into his throat, smothering him._

_Something simply shut down inside him when Uncle John's advances continued. That's why he didn't hear the steps, or the roar that followed. The first thing he heard in what felt close to a decade was a blast that seemed to tear his eardrums apart. And then there was Uncle John's blood all over him – on his face, on the clothes that hadn't been torn from him yet. It felt like some of the blood had even seeped through his skin, to his veins._

_At that very moment both Spencer and Cody screamed._

_Apart from a whisper of vehemence and relief hiding in her eyes there wasn't a trace of emotion on Diana Reid's face when she calmly put down a gun and hurried on to wrap her son into a tight embrace._ /

* * *

Emily stayed in the hospital's smothering waiting room as long as she could stand it, but eventually it became too much. Feeling like a coward and a traitor she sped out, making the team swear that they'd inform her if _anything _would change.

She wandered around the city as though in some kind of a fog until her feet decided that they couldn't support her weight anymore.

In the soon dawning morning's still pale, barely existing light she slumped to a park's bench and gasped, only then realizing that it must've been ages from the last time she inhaled a proper breath. Air hurt as it filled her convulsing lungs and she unleashed a brief, barely audible cry. Although she tried to keep the thought at bay Emily couldn't help wondering if this was how Spencer felt in that watery grave, trapped into ice cold water.

For the about a millionth time since leaving the hospital she checked her cell phone. There were no new phone calls. She wasn't sure if she should've been infuriated or relieved. At least no news meant that there were no bad news.

Emily inhaled with deep concentration, discovering that it hurt a little bit less than before. She was almost in control over herself, now. At least her breathing was something she could control.

She lifted her gaze with mild startle upon hearing steps – and for exactly three seconds her heart stopped.

There, only a couple of steps away, a little boy with brown hair and eyes was sitting on a huge stone, reading a thick book with visible ease. The child's eyes shone with such excitement that looked all too familiar to her while he let the story carry him away, into some world she would've never been able to imagine. Emily had no idea how long she'd been staring – mesmerized, startled and aching all at once – until the boy sensed her gaze and looked back. That was when she was finally able to see a difference.

Those eyes… They didn't have that burden in them – they hadn't seen too much yet.

Growing unnerved by her stare the boy closed his book, careful to mark the spot he'd reached, then got up and half-hurried away. Emily found herself wishing from the bottom of her heart that the little boy was careful. She didn't want those eyes to ever change.

At that moment, so suddenly that it made her blink, Emily remembered the letter. And although she'd basically pushed it out of her mind after finding it, all of a sudden it seemed to burn a hole to her pocket.

Emily needed to hear Spencer's voice to be able to believe that there was some hope, to remember that they hadn't lost him. And if she couldn't actually hear him speak… Then that letter was the second best thing. With that thought she shrug off the nagging warning in the back of her skull and took the letter, beginning to read although her whole body trembled.

It turned out to be harder than she could've ever imagined. Because the further she got the more pressure build up behind her eyes. And by the time she reached the last line it became all too much for her.

A lone tear traveled down her cheek, seen only by a elderly couple passing by that gave her a pitying look.

* * *

'_This wasn't how I wanted things to go, but sometimes life doesn't give us the luxury of choosing. I'm writing this letter because there are things I need to say, and I'm afraid that this may be my only chance to say them._'

* * *

In the hospital Aaron was unaware of the stiffness of his shoulders and face as he stood behind a glass that opened a view to one of the ICU's rooms, his arms folded tightly to his chest. Inside five members of staff worked furiously around heavily unconscious Spencer in what looked like a desperate attempt to save the young man's life.

There were so many tubes and monitors, so much blood… In the middle of it all Spencer, who had always been pale, appeared nearly transparent and incredibly fragile. Only the monitors proved that there was still life inside the brunet. Aaron would've given _anything_ if he'd seen even the slightest bit of movement. The Spencer Reid he knew was _never_ this still.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, and the muscles of his face hurt from the strain he put on them in steely effort to hold back a storm.

It'd taken a lot of convincing from the doctors and nurses to keep him out of that room. The least they could do was let him stand there and keep watch on his youngest.

Although Aaron wasn't proud of all the things he'd done to achieve it he'd always fought to protect his team. Once it'd forced him into kicking Spencer, into snarling vicious things at the one who least deserved them. Spencer had never blamed him for it, not with a single word. In fact, when Spencer needed help the most the genius put all his faith in him, sent him a message in a desperate hope that he'd understand. This time his youngest agent was out of his reach – there was absolutely nothing he could do. The thought was almost enough to drive him insane with fury.

Aaron had dragged his team, including Spencer, to hell and back. He'd watched the young genius change, gain such scars to his body and soul that'd never fade. He refused to believe that Spencer would give up now, after fighting through so much.

So far their team was a oddity amongst the FBI with not having lost a single one of its members to the monsters they chased. Aaron prayed things would stay that way.

"Agent Hotchner?" The female voice, albeit soft, managed to startle him. Aaron turned his gaze swiftly to see a woman of his age with long, honey colored hair and large green eyes that appeared all too sad and exhausted to his liking. He couldn't help noticing all the blood on her clothes. She sighed heavily. "I'm Dr. Emilia Farlow. I heard I should keep you informed on Dr. Reid's condition."

He nodded mechanically, all the adrenaline in his blood making him feel dizzy. "That's right. How is he?"

Dr. Farlow grit her teeth, which only added the weight sitting on his chest. "Dr. Reid has lost a lot of blood, and it looks like he has several injuries – including impalement wound on his shoulder, a concussion and broken ribs. But at the moment the stab wound to his abdomen is our main concern." She held a brief pause, letting him digest the information already given. "We're preparing him for a surgery. I'm afraid it's impossible to tell the exact extend of damage until the operation."

Aaron nodded again, feeling dazed – none of this felt completely real, none of this made sense to him. "Is he going to be alright?" he practically breathed out, his lungs almost too tight for functioning.

Dr. Farlow mused for a moment before finally speaking. "As I said, there's no way of knowing before the surgery." She did her best to make her slight smile reassuring. "But I can assure you that he has the best possible team at hand. We're doing everything we can." Just then someone called her from the room. She gave him a apologetic look. "I'm afraid I have to go now. But I promise I'll let you know as soon as something happens."

Aaron swallowed, wondering idly how it was possible with how dry his mouth and throat were. "Thank you." His voice didn't sound like his.

All he could do was watch as those people finished preparing Spencer and took him away, trust the life of a BAU-family's member into the hands of strangers.

It was the worst wave of helplessness he'd ever faced.

Aaron knew he should've gone to the team to let them know what was going on. But they needed their usual stone hard, fearless leader, and he couldn't be that now. So he headed to the nearest bench and sat down, then buried his face into one hand, preparing himself for one of the longest waits in his life.

* * *

'_I need you to understand that I chose not to tell you of Cody Jones because I didn't want you guys to see me as someone who no longer exists. I've grown up, survived. There are a lot of new scars on me, inside and outside. But those are Spencer's scars, not Cody's. And I've never regretted any of them. I've never regretted this life. Come what may I want you to know that._'

* * *

There was a grave look on Jill Morris' face as her team sneaked through the shadowy, maze like hallways of a factory that'd been closed in the late 80's. Liam was nowhere in sight – and neither were the children. In fact it looked like no one had been in the place in decades. Jill's heart thumped violently while she hoped and prayed that they weren't too late.

That she hadn't made the biggest mistake in her entire life.

The voice of a officer sounded deafeningly loud although it shook. "I found something!"

In an instant everything and everyone was moving, with such speed that Jill's head couldn't quite keep up. There was screaming and banging, nearly desperate cries. She didn't understand the hassle until she reached the noises. Her heart leapt unhealthily at what she found.

The metallic box… It was there – and there was only a simple lock keeping it closed. Inside the children were screaming out of terror.

One of the officers, a overweighed forty-years-old man named Weslon, finally had enough. His tiny brown eyes flashed while he pulled out a gun. "I'm not going to fucking stand here listening to my baby screaming! Get the hell out of the way!"

Jill felt a tremor cross her form – a warning she knew to trust. "Weslon, don't…!"

But the warning came too late. The gunshot sounded louder than any explosion, and while the officers swore the children screamed even harder than before. The lock fell with a dull 'click', breaking into two pieces.

It wasn't until then they noticed the wire, going from the lock to a hidden lid on the box's side. Exactly two seconds after the clock fell so did the lid – revealing a timer that was going down from eight seconds.

Jill's eyes widened, and she felt colder than ever in her life. "Shit…!"

Then the clock hit zero.

And nothing happened.

"What the hell?"

"Was that some kind of a sick joke?"

Apparently it wasn't. Because just then a tiny locker on the device opened, revealing a handwritten note, along with Dr. Spencer Reid's badge.

'_Game over._

_Cody loses._'

At that same moment the box's door slid open on its own, letting the children to freedom. One of the children, a tiny girl with the reddest hair and the biggest brown eyes Jill had ever seen, walked to her with almost tentative steps. The girl held out a tiny glass tube that had a piece of paper in it. "That… That mister gave this to me, told me to hold on to it tightly. He… He said that it held a clue, to saving Cody. He told me that when the clock stops ticking, Cody loses the game. The clock… It stopped when the door opened. And… There was text on that paper – now it's gone." The child appeared far more worried than someone of her age should've been able to. "What's going to happen to Cody? How can we help him if the clue disappeared?"

Jill couldn't understand the reaction of her body. They'd just saved the children, none of her teammembers had been harmed. But at that moment she brought a hand to her lips, fighting the urge to cry.

* * *

'_I'm sorry that I wasn't honest with you. It's not because I would've been unable to trust you – I'll always trust you all with my life. I trust you with the lives of others as well._'

* * *

In Spencer's room there was a deep frown on Dr. Farlow's face as she examined his vitals, then allowed her gaze to shift towards the man's much too pale face that bathed in cold sweat. Even when unconscious the brunet seemed to be in pain.

She couldn't understand. Of course the stab had done a lot of damage, as had the rest of the hell Spencer had gone through, but… Although things were still a bit unsteady, Spencer's vitals shouldn't have been crashing this way. How could a basically healthy young man be crashing like this when they'd already done their all to try and fix the damage done to his body?

They must've missed something.

She snapped out of her irritated trail of thought when the male nurse of her age working on Spencer swore under his breath upon seeing the same thing she did. Annoyance and helplessness flashed in the man's blue eyes. "Shit… The arrhythmia is back."

They watched with solemn faces how Spencer's restless heart soon found its normal beat again. His heart had been stumbling in and out of rhythm since the man was admitted – they didn't know how long it'd be able to take such torture, especially when the brunet's oxygen saturation was nearing 80. Spencer was fighting with all he had, but it looked like he was losing.

Dr. Farlow sighed and typed something to her portable laptop before moving closer to her patient. For some reason she felt the need to be gentle while she pulled out a stethoscope and listened. The poor heart shivered, as though about to give in any moment.

She grit her teeth, firmly locking back a scream of sheer frustration, then spoke in a somewhat clipped tone. "Give him…" All of a sudden she trailed off because something claimed all her attention. It was a scent, such she'd never faced before.

The nurse – Adam Sanches, as his nametag announced – frowned at her. "What's wrong?"

Dr. Farlow barely heard.

This scent… It was foreign, dangerous. But it also whispered that there might just be hope.

The nurse gave her a confused, mildly startled look when she dashed to the room's door. "What are you doing?"

She grit her teeth, adrenaline making her shake. "I'm trying to save this patient's life." And this time a simple blood test could make all the difference.

That is, if she wasn't too late already.

She had taken only three steps from the room's door when the line on the heart monitor first went ballistic, then began to crumble flat right before the nurse's horrified eyes.

* * *

'_You've been the best family I could've ever asked for. I've never been as happy as I have been with you. And that's why I'm willing to do whatever it takes to keep my past away from you. Because that's what family members do – they protect one another, fight for each other. You've taught me that._'

* * *

In a far side of Philadelphia a lone cab made its way through a questionable neighborhood after another.

"Hey, where were you going again?" the driver inquired, a clearly noticeable quiver of fear in his voice.

On the backseat a passenger opened his eyes halfway and looked around while stiffling a yawn. There wasn't another soul in sight. There was _nothing_. "This is my stop", Liam announced in a treacherously calm voice.

The driver frowned, his eyes darting around. Everywhere around them was nothing but huge buildings that'd emptied a long time ago. "Dude, there's nothing in here."

Liam arched an eyebrow, irritation tickling in his veins. "I don't see how that is your problem."

The driver shrugged, muttering something that didn't sound strictly polite under his breath.

Just then the car's speaker came to life. "_Hey, T, listen up. The police just called over – there's this guy they're looking for, and they wanted to give all drivers a heads up…_"

The further the description advanced the more rapid and shallow the driver's breathing became as realization dawned in.

Liam sighed, his hand already slipping into the bag he had along. "I'm sure you understand what happens next."

Through the rearview mirror Liam saw the cab driver's eyes widen as the man realized what was about to happen. But the realization came much too late.

There was a soft, 'snap' like sound, followed by a whisper of air.

Death came without making a sound, fast and subtle.

A couple of seconds later Liam emerged from the vehicle slowly, stretching his legs and arms. He began to walk forward without looking back or checking his surroundings. To him there were no threats in the new dawning day. The sirens of police vehicles were far away.

Liam didn't mind that he still had some distance to cover. Soon he'd have all the time in the world.

* * *

'_There was a time in my life, ages ago, when I had two paths from which I had to choose. You helped me find the right one. Not everyone is that lucky._'

* * *

Derek had never experienced the kind of a headache he had that slowly dawning morning while he sat heavily on a bench and leaned his head against the waiting room's cool window. He barely noticed that he was trembling so violently that his teeth chattered.

Was this all really happening? Because he felt like he'd been sucked into some sort of a sick nightmare that refused to end. But if this was a nightmare why couldn't he wake up?

His whole body jolted when he heard a sound that finally disturbed the room's suffocating silence. Turning his gaze he felt his heart break just a little bit more when he realized that the repetative noises were coming from Penelope, who was stood next to him. A tear after another broke through her resistance while she sat on a extremely uncomfortable bench, her arms folded tightly to her chest and her eyes darted to nothing in particular.

Derek sighed, then got up and moved, finally taking the seat next to hers. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders that seemed to be shaking as badly as his. "Hey… We haven't lost him, okay?" He hoped dearly that he would've managed to sound at least a little bit more convincing. "And we won't. So wipe those tears from your pretty face."

His body jolted with surprise when Penelope's hand took his and squeezed almost convulsively. Her eyes were full of tears when she looked at him. "I want to punch him for scaring me half dead. And then I want to hug him and give him a bazillion cookies."

Derek did his best to smile although it felt like his stomach had been going to knots. "You'll get to do that in no time, baby girl. I swear."

If it was even possible Penelope squeezed his hand tighter than before as she nodded, clearly trying to convince herself. Seeing the look of anguish in her eyes, Derek would've given _anything_ if he'd been able to tell her that everything was going to be alright. Because at the moment _nothing_ was alright.

They both stiffened instinctively when the door behind them opened. They turned, their eyes full of nearly desperate hope. The person entering was none other than Aaron Hotchner.

"Well?" There was a clearly audible edge in David's voice. The man looked like he hadn't slept in a decade. "Anything new?"

The look on the unit chief's face told that they wouldn't like what they were about to hear. "There… were complications. There were several doctors and nurses in Reid's room. They told me I should stay here and wait."

After all the fear, waiting and worrying those news struck them all breathless. David, who'd pushed himself up to his feet, slumped back to his seat like someone had hit him and Penelope brought one trembling hand to her lips while the tears began to stream freely. A strangled, pained mew was pulled from her throat. And Derek… couldn't feel a thing, couldn't think at all. He was paralyzed to the spot, once again shivering so violently that it was a miracle he didn't fall to the floor.

Nothing made sense anymore.

The room around him felt colder than winter while Derek sat down slowly, almost calmly. Not to a seat, but to a floor, blatantly ignoring the looks everyone around gave him. His vision began to grow black around the edges, forming a tiny tunnel through which he watched how several more members of staff rushed to the direction from which Aaron had just come. There were grim looks on their faces and despite their speed they advanced as silently as death. Or perhaps there was something wrong with Derek's hearing. He didn't care if there was, to be honest.

There was only one thing he wanted to hear, anyway.

Time lost all meaning – seconds blurred into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into eternities. And then Dr. Farlow was stood by the room's doorway. In a flash she became the center of the anxious team's world, because she was the only one who had the answers.

The look on the doctor's face warned them much more loudly than any words could've. She looked at them for a moment with extremely sad eyes – and shook her head.

At that very moment the world came to an end.

* * *

'_Whatever happens I'll never forget you guys. You should know by now that I never forget anything._'

* * *

In a long ago abandoned warehouse in the absolutely worst part of the city Liam's fascinated eyes observed with keen, inhuman interest how rays of a not too long ago appeared sun sneaked through a hourglass.

A chilling, wicked grin revealed his teeth as he watched how the very last grain of sand fell.

"Game over", he whispered to the ghosts of past lingering everywhere around him.

* * *

'_And who knows? Maybe I'll get to see you again._'

* * *

TBC, for an epilogue.

* * *

A/N: Awkay… (takes a deep breath, then runs) I believe that was the most horrible cliffie I've ever created. Which is why I feel a HUGE need to RUN.

But, first… **PLEASE**, leave review to let me know your thoughts and feelings! It'd mean more than you could ever imagine to me. (gives puppy's eyes) Ya know… The epilogue is already basically written; so the more you inspire me with reviews, the faster the final piece airs. (wiggles eyebrows) (Oh, I'm SO not blackmailing!)

IN THE NEXT AND (sobs once) LAST ONE: Two years and four months have passed, and nothing is the same. How is the BAU-family dealing with everything having been turned upside down?

Until next time, folks! I REALLY hope you'll all join in for the last bit.

Peace out!

* * *

**ari**: It was, wasn't it? (winces) I can be pure evil sometimes.

But hey, at least I updated quickly this time. (grins sheepishly)

Enormous thank yous for the review!


	11. Epilogue – And Then There Were None

A/N: GOSH! (swallows against a lump forming to throat) I seriously can't believe that this ride is coming to an end, now. (sighs)

BUT, before letting you see how the story ends… THANK YOU, from the bottom of my heart, for those fabulous reviews! (GLOMPS) You've made me GLOW with excitement to finish up this chapter, which is why it airs so well in time. So thank you! (hugs once more)

Awkay… (takes a deep breath) I'm always a bit nervous when it comes to last chapters, so I'm going to just bite the bullet before I change my mind. I REALLY hope you'll enjoy the last leg of the race!

* * *

Epilogue – And Then There Were None

* * *

/ _Liam was a ten-year-old wandering through the police station's hallways all alone while waiting for a social worker to show up. That's why it was a miracle no one paid much attention to him as he walked around, as though looking for something._

_Liam didn't know what he'd been looking for until he saw William Reid and Andrew Strauss. And on a bench quite close by sat Cody. The boy's whole body was shaking violently._

_Andrew sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "Jesus, Reid…! Are you seriously telling me that you killed John Waldon?"_

_The shock went down Liam's spine in a electric wave, making his pupils dilate and his blood boil over. His breathing pattern turned into that of a soon attacking wild animal's._

_William nodded, his eyes locked firmly to Andrew's. "John Waldon was killed with my gun. I'm the only one who's ever handled that gun – you won't find anyone else's fingerprints from it. I'll face all the consequences of my actions. I'm just glad that son of a bitch is dead."_

_It took all of Liam's self control to hold still as rage made his vision fill with red._

_Andrew groaned, taking a deep breath. __"So am I. But Reid... You're not a cop anymore. You…"_

_"He was going to rape Spencer!" William's eyes flashed. "So you're telling me I should regret slaughtering that asshole? If I got the chance… I'd put a bullet to his skull twice more for what he did to my son. So let him go with Diana already. He needs his mother to recover from all this. Whatever repercussions there'll be are mine to deal with."_

_It was at that moment Liam finally saw. His eyes narrowed under the realization._

_All that guilt in William's eyes… Although Liam was only ten he knew what it meant – the man was lying. The man was protecting someone._

_Someone else had killed Uncle John. And as he noticed the looks William and Cody exchanged, he got a all too clear idea of who the real shooter was._

_Cody had killed Uncle John. Cody had destroyed his entire world, taken away his all. Cody, and no one else._

_And for that Cody was going to suffer the ultimate punishment._

_By the time both Spencer and William turned their gaze Liam had disappeared like a ghost. Only days later William disappeared from Spencer and Diana's lives as well. Uncle John's name was never spoken between the mother and son again. As far as they were concerned the monster was nothing but a part of Spencer's nightmares._ /

* * *

Two years, four months and eleven days.

That was how long had passed from those events in the hospital, from the doctor's verdict that made sure things were never the same.

Without Spencer's presence the team wasn't the same anymore. With someone who'd been a part of their family for almost ten years gone, something valuable had been torn off. Even after the time passed they had hard time getting used to it.

Erin Strauss sighed, watching the remaining team in the office space below her. It seemed Derek, Penelope and JJ were absent, but she took her time to evaluate the rest of them.

Aaron's face had never betrayed much. But since Spencer's death the mask on the unit chief's face wasn't the same – it'd received a crack no amount of time and healing would erase. Erin could only wonder just how deep and wide the rift inside the man was.

Sighing, she let her gaze shift towards where Emily was sitting behind her desk, trying to finish off a report although it seemed to be the last thing she wanted to do. There was a detached, almost glazed over look in the brunette's eyes as she stared at some invisible spot. Erin knew exactly where the younger woman's mind was, and she wondered if it would ever really return to the reality at hand.

Erin's attention was directed elsewhere when David got up stiffly and put on his jacket. From where she was stood Erin couldn't hear what David said to Emily, but the man received a wordless nod as a response. While Emily got up and began to prepare for leaving Erin let her gaze linger on David's face, on all the strain and shadows the past couple of years had put there. She wondered if the man noticed that there was something missing from deep within his eyes.

Erin grit her teeth, mostly to shake away all those gloomy thoughts, when she noticed that Erin and David said their byes to Aaron, then left. Her chance had arrived.

As soon as Aaron was alone Erin turned, then walked down the stairs and made her way to the man. He gave her a frown. "I thought you'd be home by now."

Erin took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. "I was just leaving, until something came up." She fought for a moment to set her words. "I… received a phone call, such you should know of. I'm giving you and the entire team twenty-four hours to decide what you're going to do about this."

Already before she went on Erin knew that there was a storm coming.

* * *

A couple of hours later Will LaMontagne felt tingling he couldn't explain while climbing up the stairs of his house, his ears sharpened for any possible sounds. He frowned when catching nothing. "Honey, are you in there?"

It wasn't until then he saw a extremely narrow ray of light, coming from underneath the guest room's door. He frowned again. They never used that room. What was JJ doing there?

He knocked twice, although it felt absurd to knock in his own home, then pushed the door open. The sight inside broke his heart.

JJ sat in the middle of the floor, in almost utter darkness apart from a tiny bedside lamp. Before her was a single candle she must've lit a while ago. Although she visibly fought to hide it, he could see her shoulders quaking.

He swallowed, a stinging sensation taking over his eyes. "JJ…" For some reason he couldn't say anything else.

It seemed to take forever before JJ spoke, so quietly that he barely heard. "Halloween… was his favorite holiday. It feels like he's still here, now – it feels like he's here with me."

Will had no idea what to say to that, so he remained quiet for a long moment. "I'm taking Henry trick-or-treating. Are you coming along?"

The quaking of JJ's shoulders became much more visible. It looked like she'd been falling apart right before his eyes. This time he heard the tears. "Tell him… Tell him I'm sorry, okay?" She couldn't speak for a while. "I… I'll come, next year. I swear." They both knew that wasn't going to happen. He couldn't even coax her out of the house when it was Halloween.

But still Will nodded, ignoring the fact that she couldn't see it. "I'll tell him", he promised softly.

Will _loved_ his wife – the only thing in the world he loved more was Henry. He would've done absolutely anything for her. But as he looked at her at that very moment, saw all that pain, _felt_ the overwhelming longing… He realized, with a sharp jolt of pain, that there was absolutely nothing he could've done to mend this. And that's why he did the last thing he would've wanted to do.

He took a couple of steps away from her, then closed the door between them and headed downstairs where Henry was waiting, dressed up as Einstein.

* * *

In the cemetery a lone figure made his way forward slowly, unwilling and unsure of where he was supposed to be headed. In the end the heavy feet paused before a headstone that had a much too familiar name engraved to it.

'_Spencer Reid_

_Those we love are never gone_'

Jason Gideon hadn't cried when he made the decision to leave the team. He hadn't even cried when the news of Spencer's death came to him in a seemingly ordinary, sickeningly sunny day. That day he shut down completely – it was like a part of him had been stolen away.

But as he stood before the tombstone, finally seeing the name there… He felt moisture that couldn't be blinked away in his eyes.

Jason grit his teeth, kneeling with a great deal of effort. He swallowed and cleared his throat, but it still took a long moment before he managed to produce speech. "I'm sorry, that it took me this long to come", he whispered in a gruff, quiet tone he didn't recognize. "But… It wasn't easy, to come here."

Jason closed his eyes when a breath of wind picked up, dancing around him for a moment. The tears in his eyes refused to dry. He swallowed again, balling his fists so tightly it hurt and almost crushing the single lily in his hand. "I… I'm so sorry that I abandoned you, back then. I'm so sorry that I wasn't strong enough to be there for you when you would've needed me the most. I'd do anything if I could take that back, if I could choose again." He opened his eyes. All he could see was the stone looking back at him. "I hope you can forgive me, wherever you are. And I really hope you've found peace, now."

For another few moments he stayed, until it became too much for him to bear. His legs were weak and stiff as he straightened his form, unable to tear his eyes away from the stone. "I will come and visit you again, I promise. And I'm not going to take too long this time." Finally remembering the lily he'd brought along he put the flower down gently, subconsciously giving its petals a tiny caress.

After a dazed second Jason remembered that he'd brought something else as well. He searched his jacket pocket until he found something. A lone chess piece, a white rook. His fingers shook slightly as he placed the item to the tombstone.

He swallowed laboriously. "Just so you know… I won't play another round until I see you again." With those words he turned and left. This time it was even harder to walk away from Spencer than it was the previous time. This time he didn't even have a letter to leave behind.

Jason could've sworn he felt someone watching him as he went.

He wrapped his jacket more tightly around himself and squinted his eyes against a unknown attack. The stinging of his eyes only intensified.

* * *

There was a place, deep down in the heart of New York City, where only a small group of people was crazy and desperate enough to dive. It was a old, abandoned block of flats in the blackest spot of the city. Those who'd been considered worthy of being told about the place knew it as Candy Shop. If something was illegal, you could be sure to find it somewhere inside the building's four walls – as long as one was ready to pay the consequences, of course. It was a place where the line between dreams, fantasies and nightmares faded into nothingness. It was a place where those who were already long gone came to play wicked games with fickle fate.

Professor Mark Elrics swallowed thickly and stopped in the middle of a long, dark hallway where a foreign stench that stung his eyes lingered. He realized that he was shaking, and understood with a sickening amount of clarity that it was because of withdrawal symtoms. Mark tried to breathe although his tight lungs made it impossible and ran a lock of half long, brown hair to rest behind his ear. He shivered, this time for a entirely different reason, when a man who couldn't be older than twenty sauntered past him like a zombie, giving him a blank look and something that sounded like a hiss. Mark's heart began to hammer and his hands became sweaty.

When did he fall into this mess, into this nightmare – into this insanity? When did he become one of these people he used to despise and pity? The maps of track marks on his arms told their story.

Mark was so deep in thought, so consumed by the beast that was slowly awakening inside him, that he didn't notice the man approaching him until the stranger stopped directly before him. He fidgeted upon realizing that there was only millimetres between them and lifted his gaze slowly. His heart literally stopped for a couple of seconds at what he found.

Before him stood a approximately thirty-years-old man with wildly cut, obviously bleached hair that looked almost white. The man was deathly pale, and the arms a short sleeved shirt revealed whispered that they'd met the same demon. Mark's eyes recognized at least fifty track marks. But those things weren't what startled him – what got under his skin were the stranger's eyes. Usually the people in Candy Shop had dead, hollow eyes. But these brown ones that bore into his… They carried such black fire that chilled him to the bone. It wasn't hard to imagine that he was staring right at something pure evil.

And then the stranger gave him a wicked grin. "Stop running away already, Cody."

Mark couldn't do anything – scream, run or even move a muscle – before there was a shockwave of pain, followed by a river of something warm. By the time the blade was ripped from his stomach he was already truly gone.

Liam's eyes were on fire with the dosage he'd just taken and adrenaline as he watched how Cody Jones fell to the floor, those half-open brown eyes already staring unblinkedly into a world he hadn't stepped into yet.

A wide, animalistic look appeared to his eyes and his nostrils dilated when something primal took over. "You're dead, Cody", he hissed at the ghost of the past that lay at his feet. "You're dead – you're gone. So stay dead. Stay dead already."

But the voice inside his head – Cody's voice, the one that should've grown forever silent over two years ago – wouldn't shut up, wouldn't leave him alone. "_Don't you understand? You can't kill me – you're not strong enough. You'll never get rid of me._"

And then Cody began to sing, just like he always did. "_Ten little Soldier boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine. __Nine little Soldier boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight. Eight little Soldier boys traveling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven. Seven little Soldier boys chopping up sticks;One chopped himself in halves and then there were six. Six little Soldier boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five. Five little Soldier boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four. Four little Soldier boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three. Three little Soldier boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two. __Two Little Soldier boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one.__ One little Soldier boy left all alone; He went out and hanged himself and then there were none._" (1)

The howl that crawled through the hallways of the building chilled all the other damned souls in Candy Shop.

* * *

The following morning in Las Vegas Diana Reid opened her eyes upon hearing approaching steps. "You have a visitor, Mrs. Reid."

She knew who the arrival was before turning her gaze, but peered to her right anyhow. Sure enough Penelope Garcia-Lynch stood by the common space's doorway, just like the blonde did once a month. The technical wizard had first appeared two weeks after…

Diana cut that thought firmly, deciding that today she wouldn't break down.

Penelope gave her a slight smile. "Hi, Mrs. Reid. Happy Halloween!" The blonde showed her a huge jar of cookies. "I brought your favorites."

Diana sighed, trying to smile as well although it was hard. No matter how much she valued these visits, she didn't think either one of them could escape the fact that there was another visitor she would've desperately wanted to see instead of Penelope. "You're an angel." She then gave the younger woman a slightly admonishing look. "But how many times do I have to tell you that it's Diana? You make me feel old."

This time the smile on Penelope's face was slightly more genuine. "Sorry." The blonde then pulled a book from her bag. It was the same bag Spencer used to carry around, Diana discovered, and didn't know what to think of it. "What do you say if we'd start with 'To Kill a Mockingbird'?"

Diana nodded, not mentioning that she'd read the book five times, two of them to Spencer. She blinked slowly while watching how Penelope approached and sat down next to her to the couch. For a fleeting moment her mind carried her back to Spencer's visits, and it had nothing to do with her illness.

For the following two hours Diana listened, mostly with her eyes closed, how Penelope read in a soft, calm tone that sounded nothing like the younger woman's usual one. After that the silence lasted for about a minute before Diana spoke. "I suppose congratulations are in order."

Penelope blinked twice. "What…?" The woman then blushed, and instinctively brought a hand to her stomach. "Thank you."

Diana smiled. "How far along are you?"

"Six weeks. I haven't told anyone but Kevin yet." Penelope then looked away, biting her lip. "If… If it's a boy… We were thinking of naming him Spencer."

That slashed far deeper than Diana could've ever imagined, but it also brought the strangest sensation of happiness to her.

She nodded, taking a deep, slightly shuddering breath while wrapping her arms around herself. "I think that's a good idea." She rubbed her own shoulder with one hand, as though trying to find another hand to hold. "Spencer is going to be so proud."

Penelope was quiet for several seconds before speaking so quietly that she barely heard. The blonde's voice was full of ache. "Diana… Spencer is gone. Remember?"

Diana shook her head. Once more she found a smile touching the lines around her mouth while she turned her gaze, looking out the window towards the brightly shining sun. "A mother knows, Penelope. A mother always knows."

* * *

Sun shone brightly on Chicago at seven thirty in the morning and Dr. Tianna Wargas – a thirty-years-old woman most considered attractive with her tightly restrained, light brown hair and oval shaped brown eyes – yawned while approaching her office in Roosevelt University. Her cat had kept her awake most of the night and the gallon of coffee she'd had so far did nothing to chase away the fatigue that seemed to crush her to the floor.

She didn't wake up properly until she opened the door of her office, and discovered that one half of the room had been taken over.

Working somewhat awkwardly on a pile of six cardboard boxes was a man of her age with messily cut, jet black hair and eyeglasses that had equally dark frames. There was a somewhat confused look in the man's surreally blue eyes, as though his mind had been in a entirely different universe. Tianna's eyes immediately trailed down the man's slender yet obviously well formed body, taking in the casual red shirt and black jeans. This intruder was most definitely very, very easy on the eye, she admitted reluctantly.

Although she knew it was completely ridiculous Tianna had to bite back a groan of displeasure. For the past three years she'd had the insanely big office all to herself and she'd known to expect someone invading the space. But she'd never been good at sharing – blame it on her being the only child or whatever.

Struggling to keep her tone pleasant she finally spoke. "I'm sorry, but can I help you?" she inquired, managing to startle the man out of his thoughts. She couldn't help smiling at how he blinked twice, as though having been pulled out of a dream. "I'm Dr. Tianna Wargas, the resident of this office. And you are…?"

Finally the man seemed to realize what was going on, and gave her a awkward smile without offering his hand for a handshake. "I… I'm Dr. Oliver Wilson. I was just transferred here, from New York."

Finally pieces connected in Tianna's head. Yes, this was the prodigy her boss had been going on about for the past week – a hidden jewel New York had managed to keep remarkably long. She'd been quite curious to meet the man who'd managed to impress someone like Frank Weston like that.

She nodded. "I see. I've heard quite a bit about you."

Oliver blinked once more, seeming to blush slightly. "Oh." The man then gave his boxes a somewhat embarrassed look. "I'm sorry, if I'm in the way. I'll try to unpack those as fast as possible."

To even her own surprise Tianna shook her head and made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "No problem. Trust me, I know how exhausting settling in can be."

This time the smile that came from Oliver was a lot more emancipated one. Tianna almost got to her own work until she frowned upon hearing a slight hiss of pain while Oliver lifted one of the boxes. She looked towards him to see a millisecond of pain that disappeared as fast as it came. "Are you alright?"

The man nodded, appearing embarrassed once more. "I just… have a bad shoulder, that's all."

Tianna was stunned to feel a strong wave of sympathy towards the newcomer. "Do you need help with those?"

Oliver looked at her for a moment with open stun, then opened his mouth. But before the man got the chance to speak there was a knock on the office's door. A twenty-two years old, red haired and hazel eyed trainee named Stanley Peterson peered in. The man's face turned scarlet for a moment as he looked at her – his mind most likely filling with flashes of the night before – before his attention became fixed on Oliver. "Dr. Wilson, there's someone to see you. He's in conference room two. It's the second room on the left."

Surprise and something close to nervousness – perhaps even fear – flashed on Oliver's face for a moment as the man nodded. "I'll be there in a bit."

Casting a one more look towards her Stanley disappeared like a thief. A frown on his face, Oliver also began to make his way towards the room's door.

For some reason Tianna lost control over her tongue. "Hey, Dr. Wilson?" She went on when he looked towards her. "I'll be here, whenever you need help with those boxes – or with anything else."

Oliver blushed, this time clearly visibly, then nodded and left the room. And for some reason Tianna found herself smiling.

* * *

Nervous tapping of a foot could be heard in the conference room until the room's door was opened after what felt like ages of waiting. The person who'd been waiting lifted his gaze quickly.

Derek Morgan's eyes met Oliver Wilson's. And both men smiled.

"Geez, kid!" Derek breathed out as soon as the door had been closed. "Now this is what I'd call a complete makeover."

Spencer blushed for a moment, then frowned. "Ray just got me moved here from New York. How did you know where to find me?"

Derek grinned. "I have my ways – that go by the name of Penelope Garcia. She told me to kiss and hug you for her, but I think we'll both be happier if I settle for just a hug."

It felt good to see Spencer smile. It made things feel a little bit less out of control.

Derek went on after thinking about it for a moment. "And don't worry about me blowing your cover, by the way. As far as anyone's concerned I'm here visiting my family. I would've taken the entire team along if I could've." He knew he couldn't, because he still remembered all too clearly how horribly close they'd come to losing Spencer for real a bit over two years ago – how the doctor had told them that the genius most likely wouldn't last through the night. It was a pure miracle that the doctor had managed to pinpoint the poison's strange scent and make the correct test, mere inches before it would've been too late. Derek didn't want to face that fear and pain ever again.

But still, after a moment Derek regretted saying what he had when he saw the flash of ache in Spencer's eyes. The younger man grit his teeth before speaking quietly. "How… is everyone? I've tried to pry Ray, but I suppose he can't be too much in touch with you guys."

Derek sighed, not really wanting to look at the other man in the eyes. "We're… getting by, I guess, all six of us. Although it feels weird going through cases without you."

He didn't even realize his slip until he saw Spencer blink and frown. The genius looked at him with demanding eyes. "Six?"

This _wasn't_ a topic Derek would've wanted to bring up, because he knew how much pain and misery it'd cause. But it was too late to undo the damage, now. He sighed, running a hand from the top of his head to his neck. "Reid… JJ's back. She was reassigned a bit after your…" He just couldn't say the last word. "We… We haven't told her the truth, for her safety and yours, although we'd want to. You know how she is. If she'd know you're still alive she wouldn't stop at nothing before she'd see you for herself and know you're alright." He didn't want to say that she'd taken over Spencer's old desk, that whenever she thought no one was looking pain and longing filled her eyes, that they all saw how she was _struggling_ every day to overcome the crushing weight of what she thought was lost. He didn't want to say that it was killing her to believe that she'd lost Spencer. He couldn't say any of that because no matter how much he hated it this was how things needed to be. Because life had stopped making sense a little over two years ago.

A crushing amount of pain appeared to Spencer's face, and for a moment it looked like the man had been torn to pieces right before his eyes. And then, after what looked like a enormous, exhausting battle, Spencer seemed to get his mind back on track. The genius cleared his throat, the agony turning into remorse. "How's mom?"

Derek's eyes softened. "She's tougher than you think. To her you haven't been gone for even a second."

Spencer's tensed up features melted slightly. After a moment the brunet seemed to remember something. "I heard Gideon's been visiting."

Derek blinked twice. "Yeah, he was in Quantico for a couple of days – he only talked to Hotch, though. How did you know?"

Spencer actually smirked a bit at that. "I have my ways, too." The genius then turned a lot more solemn and frowned. "It's really good to see you. But I used to be a profiler, too – I know you're hiding something. So what's going on?"

This was the part Derek had been dreading. "Strauss… told Hotch that there's a new potential case. The local police asked for our assistance, and Strauss told us to consider carefully if we'd be able to do it." There was a long moment of silence until the nearly whispered words came. "It… There's been a string of murders, in New York." Derek glanced towards Spencer, wondering if the man was ready to hear this. "The victims are all caucasian males in their late twenties or early thirties, tall, thin…" He left the rest hanging, not willing to speak it out loud. Even the thought tasted sour.

Spencer looked like someone had just shot him. Derek didn't want to see the look of terror that rose just then ever again. "So Liam… knows I'm alive?"

Derek shrugged, inwardly cursing himself for not being able to give proper answers. "Maybe he just suspects something. Maybe he's no longer in control over what he's doing." He did his best to appear reassuring. "But this is a good thing too, you know. Now we're on to him – we may even be able to nail him. And then you can come back home."

That pulled out a tiny smile from Spencer. "Coming back home sounds good."

Derek responded to the smile. "Amen to that, kid."

* * *

When reaching the door of his apartment much later that evening Spencer stopped and blinked twice when seeing Oliver Wilson's name on the door.

Even after over two years he hadn't grown used to his new identity.

Cody Jones had been gone when he became Spencer Reid. Spencer Reid was still alive and strong inside him. That was a huge difference.

Spencer snapped out of those thoughts and stiffened when hearing a clank from somewhere behind him. He turned his gaze quickly but couldn't see anything but shadows and the hallway's dim lights.

He shuddered, then decided that it was time to go inside. His hand shook a little as he took a key and opened the door, then sneaked in swiftly. As soon as he'd taken two steps there was a soft 'mew' and a extremely adorable black cat that had a bit of white on her chest walked towards him, starting to rub herself against his legs.

Spencer's eyes softened while he stroked the cat's fur, making her purr. "I know you're hungry, Orion. Just give me a second to get my shoes off and then I'll feed you, okay?"

Orion didn't appear pleased, but sat down to wait for him anyway.

Spencer's thoughts kept jumping back and forth while he overfed his already overweighed pet, gave her a absent minded pat that aroused a pleased sound and headed to the living room. Just like pretty much every evening he turned on the TV, as though waiting for some kind of a sign. This time the sign did come, with the force of a sledgehammer.

The news were on, and in a couple of moments the female reporter's surreal words began to make all too much sense to him. "… _another murder in the city of New York. College professor Mark Elrics, 31, was murdered this morning. The police remains quiet on details, but pleas for anyone with any information to contact…_" The rest was nothing but static to Spencer.

There was a picture of the said professor. He was a nearly flawless replica of Spencer Reid.

For a couple of moments shock paralyzed Spencer, to such extend that he could barely even breathe.

Of course Derek had told him about this, but actually seeing it on the news…

For exactly three minutes Spencer focused firmly on breathing, but eventually he had himself under at least some control. His body shook a little as he made his way to a small, dark brown cupboard that had two drawers. He opened the upper one, revealing a gun Ray had given him _just in case_. Spencer ran his fingers slowly over the weapon, swallowing thickly while a foul taste filled his mouth.

He was ready, come what may. This time he was prepared for the monsters of past re-emerging – he was ready to bring an end to all this.

One day this nightmare would be over. Spencer survived through every day with the power of that thought. One day he'd get to go back home, to the life to which he'd formed such deep roots. Until then he'd have to hide, run and survive.

He'd done it as Cody Jones and Spencer Reid. He'd do it as Oliver Wilson as well.

He moved a loose piece of wood on the drawer's bottom just a little bit, revealing a hidden locker. He smiled a bit when seeing a photograph of his team, with all of them looking towards the camera and smiling more or less. It took a moment before he managed to find the will to put it away, along with a single chess piece – a white rook – that he'd fished from his jacket pocket.

Spencer would survive, because this time he had every reason to.

He had a family to get to.

* * *

_'____Let today be a day to face life with courage, with faith, and with a light heart.__'_**_  
_**(Jonathan Lockwood Huie)

* * *

**_End._**

* * *

1) This is a later slightly altered version of a poem from a 19th century book or magazine, possibly Collier's. (The actual author isn't named anywhere – but the point is, the poem isn't mine, I'm afraid.) Quite creepy, huh? (shudders)

* * *

RANDOM FACT… I had this ending planned out long before the whole Prentiss story arc. You can't even imagine how shocked I was to see that they 'stole' 'my' storyline! (pouts and gasps with mocked horror)

* * *

A/N: (sighs) You know… I seriously can't explain it, but for some reason writing this chapter got me just a tiny bit emotional. (pouts) It's sad to lay this one to rest – I'm not sure how sick writing this means I am, but I enjoyed the process with this one.

You guys, thank yous so much for all those fantastic reviews and listing this story! It's because of your love this lil' thing's gained a life of its own and grown. So thank you, from the bottom of my heart! Your support means a LOT to me.

And **please**, do leave a review for this last one, too! I'd be THRILLED to hear your thoughts on this last bit. (gives huge puppy's eyes) Pretty pwease…?

Once more, THANK YOU! Who knows, maybe I'll be seeing you around with other fics…?

Peace out!

* * *

**cmsp**: Gosh, let's hope he didn't die! Because it'd CRUSH the team. (winces)

Quite a nightmarish childhood, no? (winces) The poor thing! He'd deserve a million hugs for everything he's struggled through.

(chuckles) I just couldn't help the crush-thing. It's something that just hit me, and wouldn't leave me alone. 'Glad to hear you liked it!

I'm so, utterly happy to hear that you enjoyed the letter and the scenes amongst it so much! (beams) It was something I've been planning on for a very long time. (sighs) But seriously, writing that letter must've hurt Reid, A LOT. Again, the poor thing!

And don't worry, hun! I know you're out there, and that you've enjoyed the story thus far. To me that means A LOT! (grins, and hugs)

Humongous thank yous for the review!

I REALLY hope I'll keep seeing you around.

* * *

**vetgirl1231**: Damn, those bunnies! How am I supposed to keep sulking when something that adorable is looking back at me? (pouts, then cracks and glomps the bunny instead)

The world of 'CM' wouldn't make any sense without Reid, would it? (winces) Let's hope it's something we and the team will never have to face.

I'm absolutely ecstatic to hear that you enjoyed the previous chapter so! (BEAMS)

Gigantic thank yous for the review!

'Wish you'll be staying tuned for more.

* * *

**ari**: Let's hope I didn't go that far, although I've been pretty evil already. (winces)

It's horrible, to wait for something that may turn out to be crushingly sad, isn't it? (shudders)

HUGE thank yous for the review! I really hope the last bit won't disappoint you.


	12. AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey, folks! 

Some reviewers have been asking me for a sequel to REALLY wrap up this story. I'm warming up to the idea slowly, so I decided to throw the ball at you guys.

Would you liked to see a sequel for this story?

I put some info and a trailer down below to help you guys make up your minds.

Would a sequel be a good idea? **PLEASE, **let me know what you think!

Take care! 

-Sandy

* * *

TITLE: And Then There Were Two

SUMMARY: Four months have passed, and the team is struggling to cope without Spencer Reid with a new girl, Ashley Seaver, having taken over his place. But then new traces of Liam appear, sending them to his tracks once more. But Liam is already one step ahead – the man finds out Reid is alive, and does the unthinkable to smoke the genius out of hiding. How will this new nightmare end? Will Reid and the rest of them walk out alive this time?

TAKES PLACE: Four months after 'And Then There Were None.

PAIRINGS: None. I know, several of you find that part disappointing (and I personally love creating pairings). But somehow it'd feel a bit like cheating to throw in one now. (winces) But no worries, there'll be romance stories from me later (if you want to read such, of course)! And there'll be A LOT of family-bonding/loving. (grins)

WARNINGS: As you've probably come to notice my stories are VERY brutal. So there'll most likely be blood, torture, gore, at least mentions of child abuse, quite a bit of sick games created by a sick mind… (glances around) Hey, where'd you all go?

LENGTH: I'm not 100 percent sure yet, but I'd say ten chapters, give or take one or two.

UPDATE GAP: I'm putting this on because I'm planning on sticking to it this time. (smirks sheepishly) I will TRY to update once a week, and judging by the looks of it I have pretty good chances of doing that. (grins) At the moment I have a HUGE amount of inspiration, so if you want to read this would be the perfect time to get started.

* * *

A PROPER TRAILER, just to make it possible for you to decide if you'd want to read this or not

* * *

'_Ten little Soldier boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine…_'

The grim look on Aaron Hotchner's face didn't promise anything good. "Because of it's nature I wanted to brief this case myself."

Derek Morgan's eyes immediately narrowed and filled with such fire that chilled Ashley Seaver to the spine. David Rossi also stiffened, and Emily Prentiss looked fully ready to tear someone to shreads.

It was, however, Jennifer Jareau – the same JJ who was always kind to everyone, the same JJ who always watched over the group like a mother or a big sister, the same JJ Ashley had never even heard swearing – who finally hissed out the words. Her voice was so filled with uncharacteristic venom and seething rage that everyone else in the room gawked at her. "So let's go and nail that son of a bitch."

'_Nine little Soldier boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight._'

Spencer Reid – or no, Oliver Wilson now, as he quickly corrected himself – stiffened when someone touched his shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts, Wilson", a familiar female voice urged him.

He swallowed, directing his gaze to the window. Somehow the winter day felt even colder than before. "Do you… Do you ever get this feeling, that something really bad is happening? I know it's scientifically unprobable, at best, but…" His lips kept moving, but somehow he couldn't make a sound.

With the warm hand still on his shoulder, he felt her shrug. "I don't believe in premenitions until I see them come to pass."

'_Eight little Soldier boys traveling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven._'

Liam's hazy eyes barely stayed open as he answered the phone. "Talk", he barked out.

"_Listen up good, because this is big._" There was a pause, as though the other one had been waiting for him to sober up. "_Cody's still alive, Liam. He's still out there. He's in Chicago._"

In a flash all traces of drugs faded from Liam's bloodstream. His eyes weren't anything human while his fist squeezed the phone so tightly it almost broke. "Get me a flight there, or you'll never see you wife and daughter alive again." Suddenly, for the first time in years, Uncle John's voice whispered in his head. His eyes changed once more. "Or no, wait. Get me a flight to Quantico instead…"

'_Seven little Soldier boys chopping up sticks;One chopped himself in halves and then there were six._'

Since he learned how to walk Henry Jareau- LaMontagne had been taught to be aware of strangers. That's why his small body tensed up completely when a tall man with bleached hair and eyes he immediately disliked stood before the swing he was occupying.

The man gave him a smile that made him start to shake. "Hello, Henry. My name is Liam, and we'll be having some fun together…"

'_Six little Soldier boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five._'

There were tears all over Will LaMontagne face when JJ stormed into the police station. He lifted his gaze upon hearing her steps. As soon as he saw her the tears kept rolling faster, so violently that he could barely speak. "I… I'm so sorry, JJ. I'm so sorry…!"

The scream – or perhaps a howl – that crawled through her throat broke the hearts of everyone who heard it.

'_Five little Soldier boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four._'

As a professor, Oliver Wilson received a lot of e-mail. But this particular message made him lose his breath for several valuable moments.

It was sent by Uncle John. There was no message to it, only a file that looked like a web-camera recording. In a flash he wished he'd never opened it.

The picture quality was absolutely horrible, but he could nonetheless make out all too clearly what was on it. Liam, now with bleached hair, sat on a bench in a almost dark room. In the man's arms was a hysterically crying Henry, who had blood all over his face and clothes.

Less than a minute later his chair was empty.

'_Four little Soldier boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three._'

The BAU-family had faced several shocks together, been through things that would've torn most people apart. But nothing could've prepared them for what they'd face when they were called into conference room by Erin Strauss at seven in the morning.

Erin was already in the conference room, a grim look on her unnaturally pale face. Sitting on the opposite side of the long table was Spencer Reid.

'_Three little Soldier boys walking in the zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two._'

There was a great deal of anxiety on Derek's face when the man looked at Spencer. "We'll get you through this, you know? We'll get through this together. I'm not going to let Liam hurt you again." They both hoped the man's voice hadn't shaken the way it did.

The dark look on Spencer's face spoke louder than any words could've. It took a long moment before the man actually spoke. "Do you want to hear the statistics for that?"

'_Two Little Soldier boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one._'

"Tell me, Cody…" The voice was tight, even more dangerous than the blade pressed against his neck. "Did you honestly think you'd survive another round?"

And then the blade went down.

'_One little Soldier boy left all alone; He went out and hanged himself and then there were none._' (1)

* * *

1) This is a later slightly altered version of a poem from a 19th century book or magazine, possibly Collier's. (The actual author isn't named anywhere – but the point is, the poem isn't mine, I'm afraid.) Quite creepy, huh? (shudders)


End file.
